


Whiskey and Wine

by DangerMom



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Canon Related, Emotional Baggage, Eventual Sex, F/M, Gore, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Relationship(s), Sex, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Smut, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-30
Updated: 2018-02-06
Packaged: 2018-09-20 23:17:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 19
Words: 87,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9520442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DangerMom/pseuds/DangerMom
Summary: Recon Squad Gladius was on its last legs: with knight Rhys down and his only scribe tending to his wounds, Paladin Danse is left to defend his teammates against an impossibly large horde of ferals... Until Jasper shows up, a tall redhead with an impressive swing and even more impressive sense of justice.She's the slow burn he didn't know he craved. Despite the decorum he prides himself on upholding, the paladin finds himself needing her in more ways than one.--------------------------------------------------------------------This story focuses much more on the emotional side of things. It's based around my idea of the Commonwealth's unforgiving nature, and how my Sole Survivor would react to it all. Coming to terms with feelings is a returning theme, too. This story will avoid retelling the game's missions in detail unless it's absolutely pertinent. Otherwise, please enjoy!





	1. Amber Moon

“Haylen! To your left!”

Danse’s warning rang through to the scribe even through the rattling screeches of the ghouls. He pulled a face as he whipped around, shoving a particularly gruesome one off his back before decimating it with a well-placed shot from his rifle. The tiniest wave of relief crashed over him as he heard the ghoul charging at scribe Haylen splutter as it was killed by the scribe.

“There’re more charging from our right,” Rhys yelled, aiming his own laser rifle and shooting whatever he could. “Keep an eye out for-“  
  
Danse winced in sympathy as the knight was knocked down by a pair of ghouls. The knight’s voice was muffled under the creatures, but Danse could tell that he was getting hurt, and badly. Haylen screamed in anger, shooting desperately at the forms of the monstrosities ripping at the downed soldier. Hoping to God turning away wouldn’t cost his field partners their lives, he looked behind him. There were so many; the shadows seemed to be alive, and for a fleeting moment, an unusual sense of dread filled him. Their ramshackle wooden barriers wouldn't hold much longer if this onslaught continued.  
  
“He’s down, Paladin,” the scribe screamed. “I need to tend to him if we want him to make it!”  
  
“Stay focused on him then,” he barked, shooting at whatever moved in front of him. His movements were precise and quick, almost rehearsed. “I’ll keep them at bay while you work!”  
  
Why had he just said that? They were three and they had had trouble; what would one man, albeit in a suit of power armour, be able to do against this horde of abominations? Shaking himself mentally, he braced himself as another ghoul smacked into him, the sound of its rotting flesh smacking against the metal of his suit ringing through his head.   
  
_You’re a soldier, Danse. Keep it together.  
_

Pulling another face, he kicked it off with a crunch, the impact breaking whatever brittle bones his foot came into contact with. It crumpled to the ground with a gurgle, soon replaced by another one, charging towards the paladin in earnest.

_We won’t make it.  
_

A roar cut through the rattling screeches of the ghouls, and Danse’s heart nearly gave out when a blur of blue ran past him, a large sledgehammer raised in the air. He froze, watching in shocked fascination as this new person brought their weapon down on a ghoul, effectively splattering the thing’s head across themselves. The paladin snapped out of his momentary daze when a bit of brain hit his cheek. He nearly retched.  
  
Invigorated by the thought of someone being able to help him, he turned his focus back on picking off every ghoul that came careening towards his small group. He turned his back to the newcomer and fired shot after shot, the echo of the laser and dull thudding of the stranger’s sledgehammer creating a sort of harmony. The smell of burning flesh as it sizzled with every successful contact was met with a fierce rush of adrenaline, and every crunching, squelching thud coming from the stranger’s sledgehammer was music to his ears. He regained momentum, and fell into an odd dance of aiming, shooting and repositioning for the next one.

Slowly, the horde thinned out, and after what felt like an eternity, the last one fell at the feet of the unnamed helper. Breathing heavily, covered in sweat and practically dripping in ghoul's guts, he turned to face Haylen and Rhys, the latter propped against a wall while the scribe tended to his wounds. He made a mental note to clean off his power armour with as much turpentine as he could find once things settled down. He sighed in an attempt to regulate his breathing, relief that the battle was over just beginning to seep into him. A shuffling noise tensed him right up again as he suddenly remembered that he knew absolutely nothing about the intentions of the wastelander behind him. He stiffened and turned to face the foreigner, prepared to do whatever it took to keep his field partners safe.

This was a woman, and even though she was slouched over the handle of her sledge, panting from exertion, he could tell she was tall. A quick scan of her body let him take in the basic details: she had what looked like a strong build, albeit being slightly soft; her hair was a dark, almost sharp shade of red, pulled into a tight bun. It was matted with dirt and sweat, and the gleam of ghoul blood did not help its appearance. He couldn’t see her eyes or her face, as they were both covered by her bangs, but from what he could make out through the dirty strands of her hair and the skin on her hands, she wasn’t irradiated or deformed. A human. Hopefully. He let himself relax.  
  
“Thank you,” he said, straightening himself up. She looked up at him and smiled the faintest smile before leaning back down, supporting herself on her weapon. “I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t shown up to help.”  
  
She swallowed before straightening up, giving her shoulders a roll. She gave a quick glance at the bloodbath around her before looking at him again. His gut clenched; even in nothing but the glow of the fire roaring in a barrel near Haylen and Rhys, her eyes ensnared him. They were a bright shade of amber, and the flickering light illuminating them nearly made them glow. It was like looking at two pools of liquid gold.  
  
“You looked a little trapped,” she answered, her voice raspy. The stranger cleared her throat before continuing, stretching her back with a wince. When she spoke this time, her voice was clear. “I figured you wouldn’t say no to a little help.”

God, her voice. It struck him like a clap of thunder. Danse imagined a glass of whiskey being poured when she spoke; it was deep and husky, paired with a slightly scratchy undertone. A slow burn pooled in his stomach, almost exactly like when he drank the dark liquid. He imagined it would sound lovely when she wasn’t exhausted. At this thought, a jolt of… something shot through his spine; realising he was losing his composure, he shook himself mentally for what felt like the umpteenth time that night before assuming a more proper posture. Thank God for power armour.  
  
“We appreciate the assistance, civilian,” he spoke, making a conscious effort to keep his voice mildly authoritarian. There was no need for his momentary lapse in decorum to come to light. “But, may I ask, what’s your business here?”  
  
“Before I answer, will you tell me who you are?” She sounded affronted. Almost instinctively, Danse’s defensive instincts kicked in. Wariness made him frown, and he looked down at her sternly.

“In due time,” he replied, choosing his words carefully. “If you wish to remain in our compound, I suggest you answer my question first.”

The woman huffed before letting out a short sigh, annoyance tightening her features. It almost looked like she was pouting. When she didn’t answer right away, the paladin raised an eyebrow, impatience compelling him to speak.  
  
“Well?”  
  
“Fine,” she nearly growled. Another jolt shuddered through him. _Fuck._ “I was walking by and heard you yelling, so I walked over.  I figured you needed my experience as a past exterminator, and my efforts are literally strewn across your feet, tin can.”

It was Danse’s turn to feel annoyed. The way she looked at him, a hand on her hip, leaning against her weapon with the other, her eyes meeting his own grey ones with playful defiance, was impudent. That, paired with her light insult, struck a nerve in him. Was she being serious?  
  
“Evading my questions is a sure way to get yourself ejected from the compound,” he warned, staring her down with what he hoped was an intimidating look. He had no time for nonsense. “Are you from a local settlement?”  
  
“Do all these questions really matter?” When he shot her a look, he saw her expression shift from playful to serious. “I just helped you clear the place from those ferals. I figured that after that, you wouldn’t have a problem in letting me stay and rest for a bit.”

Dammit. She was right; the battle would have been impossible without her help. If Haylen was still able to tend to Rhys and he was still standing, it was thanks to this civilian. Closing his eyes, the paladin heaved another sigh, this time out of defeat.  
  
“If I appear suspicious, it’s because our mission here has been difficult,” he explained, looking back down at her. She tilted her head, the fire in her eyes replaced by inquisitiveness. “Since we’ve arrived in the Commonwealth, we’ve been under constant fire. I can’t reveal much to you, but should you feel inclined to help, we wouldn’t say no to an extra gun on our side.” He glanced at her sledgehammer. “Well, hammer.”

She smiled, and this time it was genuine. He stole a glance at her lips; full, red, and chapped, surely from days of trudging through the wasteland. Definitely sexy. _Fuck._ As quickly as it came, however, it faded, replaced by a frown.  
  
“I want to help, but I don’t appreciate the secrecy,” she stated stoutly. “Who are you? Really?”

“Very well.” All defiance left him as exhaustion took over. “I am Paladin Danse, Brotherhood of Steel. We’re on recon duty, I’m down two guns, and our supplies are running low. The only people I have left with me are Scribe Haylen and Knight Rhys. Rhys was injured in the fight, and Haylen is busy tending to his wounds to make sure he doesn’t get infected. We’ve been attempting to contact our superiors, but out signal is too weak to reach anyone outside a small radius.”  
  
“Sir, if I may?”

His attention turned to his scribe. He had almost forgotten that two others were physically present. Haylen had risen from her place next to Rhys, who, thankfully, seemed to be in stable condition. She dusted off her knees before turning her attention back to the paladin. Danse nodded in response.  
  
“I’ve already modified the radio tower on this police station’s roof,” she stated, wiping her hands on her uniform. She glanced at the wastelander, the other woman listening intently. “It isn’t enough, though. What we need is something to boost the signal. I’ve already located what we need in the old ArcJet Systems building west of this location. It’s a piece of technology called the Deep Range Transmitter, and once we acquire it, our problem will be solved.”  
  
“And you’d need my help to recover it?” Danse couldn’t blame the redhead when she bit her lip, uncertainty clouding her face. Haylen glanced at her superior, waiting for an answer. The scribe looked as exhausted as he felt, and that helped him make a decision.  
  
“Not tonight,” he specified. He could feel the relief pouring from both women, and Rhys made an appreciative grunt from where he sat. “We can discuss a plan of action tomorrow. For now, however, we rest. God knows we've earned it.”


	2. Black Velvet

There was a hush as Danse walked around the station’s perimeter. He had promised the others a quick walk-around to verify that they were safe before turning in for the evening. Thankfully it was a quiet night, save for the sound of his footsteps and the chirruping of insects. The moon hung high and bright in the sky, accompanied by its twinkling counterparts. When had the paladin last taken the time to appreciate the night sky? For the first time in a while, he felt relatively safe; the wastes seemed to have taken a night off from being hostile, and he finally allowed himself to relax his tense body.  
  
Danse finished his rounds and entered the building, making sure to bar the door. The windows had long since been boarded up, so there was no need to worry about things getting in that way. He turned and walked in the makeshift barracks he’d helped set up when they had first found the station: three worn beds placed along the walls behind rusted desks and irreparable terminals were what cradled their sore bodies at night with nothing but old sheets to cover themselves with. Rhys was laying on one of them, an arm slung over his eyes. The knight had peeled off his uniform, bloody bandages covered his thorax. His breathing seemed laboured, and Danse made a mental note to check up on him before going to sleep. Haylen, on the other hand, was busy typing away at an intact terminal they had wiped clean and set up for the Brotherhood’s exclusive use. He took note of the fact that their guest was nowhere to be seen. With a frown, Danse walked to the scribe’s makeshift office and stood in the doorway.  
  
“Scribe, where is the civilian?” he inquired. Haylen started before looking up from her work. She tapped a few more keys before straightening up in her chair, the ancient wood creaking under her small frame.  
  
“She went to the basement, sir,” she replied, her voice soft. “Said she wanted to use the old showers down there.”  
  
“I didn’t know those were functional,” he said, mildly surprised. A shrug was her response. “Make sure she comes to see me in the holding area when she is finished.” A mumbled “Yes, sir” followed him as he turned away, moving towards the door. He stepped around a desk as he made his way to the rusted jail cells. His armour screeched as metal against metal scraped against each other, knocking the desk back a few inches. Danse stumbled forward, his armoured foot nearly going through the used floor boards.  
  
“God dammit,” Danse mumbled, sidestepping to give himself a wider path around the obstruction. A laugh came from Rhys’ berth, followed by a gasp of pain. He glared over at the knight, cheeks heating up. He straightened himself, trying not to show his embarrassment. “Rest. You need it if you want those wounds to stay closed.”  
  
“Hard not to laugh when the man of steel himself nearly falls over a fucking desk,” Rhys said, his voice mocking. Danse’s glare intensified.  
  
“Mind your tongue, soldier, or I’ll mind it for you.” Rhys’ smile faded quickly, the knight tightening his lips in indignation. The paladin turned away and (carefully) made his way out of the barracks and into the reception area, then into the room where the holding cells were situated. There was a completely empty one he liked to use to store his power armour, the cramped space and noisy doors making it ideal protection against any would-be thieves. The paladin walked into the farthest cell and, facing the far wall, he squeezed the mechanism in his armour’s gauntlets. The armour around him opened, the clicks of the locks disengaging accompanying the hydraulics’ loud hisses. He stepped out of the metal outfit and took a deep breath to stretch out his ribcage. With a soft groan, Danse stretched his back and flexed his arms, giving his shoulders a roll in an attempt to relax his sore muscles and stiff joints. As useful as the armour was, it wasn’t the most comfortable thing to wear.

With one last stretch of his legs, the paladin tugged off his hood and threw it on the nearby table. Next, he unzipped the front of his uniform; tugging it down to his hips, he tied the sleeves around himself as a sort of makeshift belt to keep it from slipping down too low. The last thing he needed was a second embarrassment tonight.  
  
“There’s a human under all that metal?”  
  
Danse gave a start and turned, coming face-to-face with the wastelander. He glanced down at her body; she wasn’t wearing the vault suit anymore, he noted. Instead, she wore a flannel button-up shirt and some slack jeans which complimented her curves very... Erm, well. He noticed, for the first time, just how curvy she was; she was by no means slim, but not completely unfit, either. Her shoulders, as well-defined as they had been in the tight blue suit, seemed somehow stronger in the red plaid of her top. He felt his cheeks heating up for the second time that night. Her arms were crossed over her chest, her long legs crossed over one another as she leant against the door frame.  
  
“There has to be,” he managed to say, forcing himself to look up at her.  
  
With a snort and a smile, she stepped into the narrow room with him. She let her arms drop from her chest, and, as much as he hated himself for it, he couldn’t help but notice the strain her chest was putting on the small black buttons of her top. She pushed herself away from the door frame and brushed past the soldier. Standing straight, she was just under Danse’s 6 feet 2 inches. _Was there anything about her that wasn’t big?_ As she brushed past him, he caught a whiff of her soap. Something flowery, he guessed. Suddenly feeling self-conscious of his own lacking hygiene, he turned away from her and untied the sleeves of his uniform. He pulled it back on, zipping it up quickly.  
  
The wastelander sat down in one of the old metal chairs, staying quiet. Danse did the same, pulling one up as far as he could from her without seeming rude. He cleared his throat before speaking.  
  
“I never asked for your name,” he said, clasping his hands together on his lap.  
  
“Jasper,” she answered quickly. Interesting name. She sat straight, keeping her eyes locked onto his face. Alert. “Jasper Cohen.”  
  
“Noted. Well, Jasper, I’d like to discuss the possibility of you joining the Brotherhood of Steel.” He kept his voice level. Danse had thought his proposal through as he made his last rounds outside. “I’ve given it some thought, and if you’d accept, I’d like to take you on as an initiate. I would be your sponsor and commanding officer.”  
  
Her expression showed mild surprise, which slowly turned into a frown. She held his gaze before looking down into her lap, hands fidgeting with a small tear in the denim. A minute passed, and then another; Danse was beginning to feel as if he’d said something wrong.  
  
“You’re under no obligation, civilian,” he added, attempting to make his tone reassuring. She looked back up at him, uncertainty clouding her eyes. “You fought exceptionally well out there, and it would be an honour to have you join our ranks. We could use a soldier like you.”  
  
“What would I be doing in the Brotherhood of Steel? I’m no soldier,” she said, her voice low. She was still fidgeting with her pants. “My-my husband was the military one, not me.”  
  
“We would train you. Sculpt you into a sister of the Brotherhood,” he replied. Her eyes wandered over to the power armour, to the wall, and finally, back to her lap. “You would be given the privilege of joining us on our flagship, whenever she shows up. You would also wear our uniform, and be given your own set of power armour. We would also do our best to offer you protection from the dangers of the wastes, and help with whatever troubles you may come across.”  
  
At this, she looked directly at him. Danse felt like his mind was being read with how sharply her eyes scrutinized him. Was this how it felt to be held on trial? The soldier in him held her gaze steadily, years of discipline overpowering his emotions. He readjusted on his chair; why were these old chairs so damn uncomfortable?  
  
“I’ll have to think about it,” she stated. Danse looked back towards her and nodded. He couldn’t exactly blame her for wanting some time.  
  
“Understandable. Sleep on it, and if come morning you do not wish to take part in our mission, we will ensure you are sent off with proper supplies for whatever trip you are taking.”

“Thank you, paladin.”  
  
Hearing her say his rank wasn’t something Danse should have enjoyed, but God did he ever. _I wonder what it would sound like if this wasn’t business._  
  
No. He shook his head at the lewd imagery filling his mind before getting up, Jasper quickly following suite. He motioned for her to follow him, and together, they left the holding area and went to the barracks. The paladin guided the woman to the area his scribe had set up for her. Haylen had managed to find a few musty old blankets and had set them up to make a sort of makeshift mattress, one of his deceased teammates’ sleeping bags spread across it. Haylen had even taken the liberty of arranging Jasper’s belongings at the foot of the nest, her vault suit hanging on the back of a chair. Haylen was still there, waiting.

“Good evening,” the scribe greeted them. Her voice was oddly cheerful. “I’ve made sure to grab all your things and set them close to your berth for both accessibility and convenience. I hope you don’t mind.”  
  
“Not at all,” Jasper replied, stopping when she stood next to Danse. “I appreciate this. Well, I appreciate everything, actually. Thank you so much.”  
  
She looked up at him with those last words. Her eyes captivated him again, his stomach knotting. What the Hell was this woman doing to him? Years of being surrounded by women, fighting alongside them, should have desensitized the paladin, but every time she spoke or he chanced to catch her eyes, he felt undone. He sincerely hoped it was only because she was a new face, and that he would get over these feelings soon. __  
  
Dance nodded in response; he didn’t trust himself to speak. He turned from the two women, leaving them to the chattering that had started between them. He went to Rhys and made sure he was doing alright before retreating to his cot. Usually, he would take off his uniform and sleep in his black muscle shirt and pants, but with Jasper around, that was out of the question. He climbed into bed, still dressed in his uniform, and stared at the ceiling. Once the women went quiet and he was sure they’d gone to bed, he closed his eyes and let the exhaustion of the past few days finally take him over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If there are any mistakes, please let me know!


	3. Whiskey Sour

When Danse awoke the next morning, he was greeted with dusty slivers of light pouring in from the cracks between the boards on the windows. With a groan, he stretched; why did the nights have to be so short? With the prospect of having to trek hours out west to ArcJet and breaking into the building to search for something that might not even be present, the last thing he wanted to do was get up.

The paladin laid in bed, staring at the ceiling for a minute before forcing himself to sit up. He never overslept, and the grogginess that accompanied such liberties was exactly the reason why he didn’t allow it. Why had they not woken him? Irritated and grumpy, he realized just how warm he was, having slept in his jumpsuit. With a soft huff, he threw the sheets off of himself before standing. Danse stuffed his feet in his boots and took his time lacing them up, mulling over what needed to be prepared for the day’s mission. If things went according to plan, he would be back by sundown; if Jasper joined him, it would take even less time. He felt a twinge of annoyance that she hadn’t given him an answer the night before, but he sternly reminded himself that while he had been serving for the better part of a decade, she was completely green.

With a sigh, he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes with the heel of his hands. He hadn’t even been awake for ten minutes and he could already tell that today was going to be long. He finished dressing properly, straightening his uniform and running a hand through his thick hair in an attempt to fix it before taking a quick look around the room. He was alone. The sound of hushed voices carried through the police station, and for no perceivable reason, they annoyed him. Frowning, he peeked around the door into the old reception area. Haylen and Rhys were sitting there, the scribe tending to the knight’s wounds. Jasper was sitting against a wall, her knees pulled up to her chest. She sat, silently observing the others interact with interest, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth at their exchange.  
  
“That fucking _stings_ , Hay,” Rhys hissed. Danse watched as Haylen forced him to sit still, pressing a wet gauze pad to the nasty-looking laceration on his ribs. The knight twitched away, earning a growl from the scribe and a giggle from Jasper.  
  
“Well, it would sting a lot _less_ if you would _sit still_ ,” snapped the scribe, glaring up at the fidgeting knight. He ignored her, reaching to touch his wounds, and the scribe smacked his hand. “Would you stop being so stubborn?”  
  
“Rhys, let her do her job,” Danse grumbled. Even he noticed the grumpy tone in his voice, and with a sigh, he tried to squash the contempt bubbling in him. He ignored the look the knight shot him and looked directly at Haylen. “Why did no one wake me up?”  
  
“We decided you needed rest,” Haylen answered, looking up at the paladin. “You always worry about us, but we worry about you too, paladin.”

“Don’t let it happen again, scribe,” he ordered. “We can’t afford to waste any time, especially today. We need to go over a plan of action if we’re to recover the deep range transmitter.”

“Yes, sir. It won’t happen again,” was her hushed reply. With that, she turned back to Rhys, going back to tenderly dabbing at the wounds. Danse rubbed his forehead, closing his eyes in exasperation.  
  
“Am I still going with you?”  
  
Danse turned, letting his hand drop back down to his side. He hadn’t heard Jasper stand and walk to the group. She was dressed in her vault suit again, a rucksack slung over her shoulder. Her hair was in its tight bun again, and her eyes seemed to sparkle in the sunlight.  
  
“If you’re willing,” the paladin replied. “I would consider you an asset on this mission. I’d appreciate the extra firepower.”

“Alright. What’s the plan?”  
  
“Well,” Haylen interrupted, walking away from Rhys. The knight carefully pulled his uniform back on and stood from the chair he had been occupying. “The plan is to make it into the building, find the transmitter, and get out. There are turrets for security, and a few locked terminals, but the password should be in the building somewhere. It doesn’t sound like much information, but that’s all I was able to gather from my recon mission without getting blown to bits.”  
  
“So break in, take the thing, and get out in once piece is basically the plan,” said Jasper. She sounded unimpressed. She raised her eyebrows and crossed her arms, giving the trio a look. Danse felt a pang of annoyance at her demeanour, but before he could say anything, Rhys spoke, his tone harsh.  
  
“Look, lady,” the knight began. “We didn’t exactly have the best equipment to work with, and if you haven’t noticed, we’re only three people stuck doing the job of ten. It’s the best we’ve got, and we’re lucky to even have the few scraps of intel we _do_ have. Either you’re with it or you’re not, and if you’re not, then I suggest you get the Hell out of our hair and let us move on.”

“That will do, soldier,” interrupted Danse. He saw the knight bristle at his words, but thankfully, he backed down. The paladin stepped forward and stood in front of Jasper. “You need to understand that we can’t pull off miracles when half our team was blown to bits. We lost good men, and we’re doing the best we can with what, and who, we have left. Are you coming, or not?”  
  
Jasper’s face was a wall of stone. Expressionless, save for her eyes. They were bright, but not like anything Danse had ever seen. She was _angry_. Her body language told him she very much wanted to punch the closest thing to her, and for a fleeting moment, he was afraid she might act on the sentiment.  
  
“You aren’t the only people who have lost something, _paladin_.” She practically spat his rank back at him, bringing herself up to her full height. Danse felt a surge of anger course through him, and he clenched his fists.  
  
“Watch your tone,” he warned, his voice low. “You are in no position to speak to me that way.”

“Excuse me?” He watched her expression turn incredulous, insulted. Her voice was low and dangerous. She walked right up to him then, standing barely inches away from him. “Who the fuck are you - ” she punctuated her words with a sharp jab to his chest – “ - to tell me to watch my tone? I just woke up from a two-hundred-odd-year coma on ice to find my husband dead, and my infant son missing. My home has been destroyed. My family is dead. I have _nothing_. You expect me to feel sorry for you because some of your team died?”  
  
Her voice had risen to nearly a shout. Haylen stood, eyes wide, staring at the wastelander; Rhys, on the other hand, seemed ready to jump at her throat. The paladin suppressed the urge to yell back with an unsteady breath before speaking with forced calm.  
  
“I understand that you might be dealing with your own losses, and I respect that-“  
  
“Oh, fuck off. No you don’t,” she interrupted, venom dripping from her words. She scoffed, staring right into his eyes. “If you did, you wouldn’t be using your own losses as a weapon. That, and your god damn Holier-Than-Thou attitude.”  
  
“I beg your pardon?”  
  
“Your Holier-Than-Thou attitude,” she repeated, emphasising each word as if speaking to a child. “You steel brothers or whatever the Hell you call yourselves seem to think you’re infallible, and yet here you are, down to three from god knows how many for a simple recon mission.” She spread her arms, motioning to the trio. Haylen gasped, and Rhys stepped forward, mumbling a threat through bared teeth. The scribe gripped her teammate’s arm tightly, stopping him.  
  
“I will NOT have you insult our organization and our work, wastelander,” he shouted. It was as if he’d slapped her in the face; her cheeks reddened, and the fire in her eyes intensified, her plush lips tightening. His lack of tact embarrassed him, but he couldn’t keep quiet. “I won’t stand here and have you disrespect everything I believe in, as well as my teammates because your feelings are hurt.”  
  
Jasper stayed silent. Danse almost wished she would shout back, or at least show some sign of wanting to fight, but nothing was happening. Instead, the woman held his angry gaze, hers just as intense.  
  
“Wastelander, is it?” She laughed softly, stepping back from the paladin. She placed her hands on her hips, eyes searching his. “If I’m nothing but a _wastelander_ , then why the Hell would you want me on your side, huh?”  
  
Danse took a deep breath to calm himself. He ran a hand through his hair in exasperation. He had to look away from Jasper to avoid saying anything more. He already regretted calling her a wastelander; how was she supposed to feel inclined to join the Brotherhood if she was insulted by her would-be commanding officer? Emotions swirled in his mind, and he didn’t quite know how to make sense of everything. Danse couldn’t remember the last time he had lost control over himself like this, and it was because of this woman, a stranger filled with fire and strength and god knows what else. _Fuck, fuck, fuck._ One thing was certain, however: he refused to let them cloud his professional judgement.

“Because you are exceptional in combat,” he said, frustrated. He managed to sound relatively calm, despite the anger still pulsing through him with every heartbeat. Danse reined in his emotions with a soft intake of breath. He brought his gaze back towards her and was greeted by those same fiery eyes. “You’re extraordinary in close combat. I’d love to see what you’re capable of with a bit of training, and today’s retrieval would be the perfect opportunity to see if my decision to offer a position with the Brotherhood was ill-placed.”

Rhys snorted next to him. Haylen had let go of his arm, looking from Danse to Jasper. She looked worried, like she couldn’t really believe what had just happened. The police station was silent; Danse didn’t trust himself to speak, and Haylen seemed scared to break the silence. The paladin knew Rhys had plenty to say, but the knight’s discipline kicked in for once, and he kept quiet.  
  
Danse broke the silence with a sigh. He looked at Rhys, clearing his throat. The knight took his attention from Jasper and turned to face his commanding officer, crossing his arms. The man really needed to work on his posture.

“I’m going to prepare for the mission,” he stated. “This needs to be done, alone or not. Rhys, I’m trusting you to keep the area clear while I’m gone. Haylen,” he said, turning to the scribe. She looked at him, attentive. “You are to take inventory of our remaining supplies. Provide support where it is needed. If there are any troubles, contact me on my frequency. Dismissed.”  
  
Both knight and scribe nodded and immediately moved out. He watched them gather their weapons, both making an active effort not to make eye contact with either Jasper or himself. With one last glance at the woman, Danse turned and briskly made his way to the jail cells. He’d had enough distractions for one day, and being around Jasper did nothing to help.

He walked to the last holding cell, pausing only to grab his hood off the desk he had thrown it on the night before, and looked his armour up and down, quickly assessing its integrity. The metal gleamed with enthusiasm he did not feel; in fact, he felt rather deflated. Shaking off the feeling, the paladin opened the back latch, the entire outfit opening for him with one smooth motion. He tugged his hood over his head and stepped into the cool metallic suit. He let the embrace of steel close around him, and with a last, satisfying click, the frame enveloped him in a familiar sense of strength and security.

Once he was settled into the suit comfortably, he turned to leave and came face to face with Jasper. Her expression was sullen, and she was hugging her body. Danse chose to stay quiet as he squeezed by her, the used floor protesting under his heavy frame. He was about to step out into the reception area when she spoke.

  
“I’ll go,” she mumbled. Danse eyed Jasper with a sideways glance, stopping in his tracks. The paladin hadn’t expected her to join the mission after their exchange. There was something he couldn’t quite identify in her voice; was it contempt, defeat? The paladin couldn’t quite decipher it, but he decided not to push it. She looked up at him, her golden eyes determined. She was a walking contradiction, and he wasn’t quite sure if he liked it or not. Despite his reservation, the paladin felt relief that he wouldn’t be alone.  
  
“Get ready, soldier. We move out now,” he commanded and was pleased when he was greeted with a stiff nod and a swift exit. _Let’s do this_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Worry not, children; exposition is coming. I just wanted to introduce a little conflict, and maybe a bit of background as to why Rhys would be an ass to Sole int he first place. Thank you for reading, and sticking with me thus far!


	4. Boston Sidecar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am alive!! I am SO sorry it took me so long to get this chapter out. I moved in the middle of the month and have had to adjust to a new lifestyle. 
> 
> A very special thanks to chiixil_84 for beta-ing this chapter. Your input was greatly appreciated!
> 
> I hope you can all forgive me, and that you enjoy this chapter!! As usual: if you spot any mistakes, please let me know!

There was no in-between when it came to the weather of the Commonwealth: it was both raining and frigid some days, or sweltering hot on others, with a few radiation storms thrown in just to shake things up. As both Danse and Jasper made their way across a patch of dry grass and gravel, the ground crunching beneath their feet, Danse couldn’t help but wonder if this place wasn’t deliberately trying to kill him with its weather patterns alone. He was sweating heavily, his power armour’s cooling vents doing nothing against the scorching glare of the sun. His suit was burning hot, and did absolutely nothing to shield him; his uniform, insulated to protect against radiation, only intensified the heat.

The paladin glanced over his shoulder at his companion. Her bangs were stuck to her forehead with sweat and her breath was coming quickly, sounding almost like a pant. Her dark vault suit mustn’t be too comfortable in the heat, he guessed; its tight material left no room for air flow, and it seemed to be made of some sort of synthetic leather, useful for protection against rads, but ineffective against severe weather conditions. He almost felt sorry for her, but if she was to be a part of their ranks, she would have to learn to deal with situations like this one, as well as build endurance, something she seemed to lack. It wasn’t surprising, in all honesty, and Danse reassured himself with the reminder that she would be facing rigorous training should she choose to join the Brotherhood.  
  
Jasper had been quiet most of the trip, speaking only to ask pointed questions about their destination as well as their objective. Danse didn’t mind; he wasn’t the type of person to discuss mundane subjects when there was a task at hand. It helped keep him focused. It also let him avoid any uncomfortable conversations with the woman; the tension from their earlier disagreement hadn’t quite dissipated. Rather, it hung between them like an invisible wall. It was slightly uncomfortable, but the paladin had faced worse situations. He tried not to think about it as they sidestepped a nasty-looking mud hole, its foul odor acting like a barrier. They hadn’t made it much farther along their path when Jasper spoke.   
  
“Okay. I need to stop and breathe,” she said behind him, stopping to lean against a tree. She wiped the sweat from her brow with her hand, closing her eyes. “And drink. I’m thirsty as fuck.”  
  
“Language,” warned Danse, turning to face her. She raised a brow at his remark but chose not to reply. “Five minutes, soldier.”  
  
She nodded and let her rucksack drop to the ground. A small cloud of dust rose from the impact. She crouched and began to dig through the contents, pulling out a can of purified water. The label was peeling off and dirty, but the words “purified water” and its sealing date, April 2077, were still legible even with the bold print faded. Danse was impressed the item had survived for as long as it had. Jasper punctured the top of the can with the provided pull tab, the pressured air escaping with a hiss, and brought it up to her mouth.

She drank with the urgency of someone who hadn’t seen water in years, water dribbling down her chin. Danse watched droplets snake down along her neck and down under the collar of her suit. He found himself wondering what she would taste like. His immediate guess was spice. Spice and warmth.  
  
She finished drinking with a long gasp of air, her chest rising and falling with every breath. While her flannel shirt from the night before had done a wonderful job showcasing her ample chest, the tightness of the vault suit left almost nothing to the imagination. Disgusted at the liberties he had been allowing himself to take, Danse looked away and waited. He heard her pick up her rucksack and walk towards him. When he glanced around at her, her hand was extended towards him, holding out another can of water. Confused, he frowned.  
  
“Take it,” she said. Danse was taken aback; she had been cold and somewhat distant the entire trip so far and hadn’t expected her to offer anything other than silent company for the remainder of the mission. He was unsure whether he should take it or not. She got impatient, and thrust the can towards him, pursing her lips. He took it tentatively and turned it in his gauntleted hand, examining it curiously. He rarely had the opportunity to thoroughly look over pre-war objects; they were usually whisked away to be stored and archived by scribes and proctors as quickly as they were found, no matter how insignificant they may seem. The peeling date on the dented aluminium worried him. 

“It’s safe to drink, I promise,” Jasper said, noticing his hesitation. She swung her rucksack back on, closing one eye against the sunlight. “I wouldn’t give it to you if I thought there was anything wrong with it.”  
  
“I know,” Danse answered curtly, irritated that he had been caught hesitating. Awkwardly, he pulled the tab on the can and pierced the thin aluminium; his gauntlets did not make the task easy for him. Danse quickly gulped down the water and crushed the can in his hand, trying to ignore the metallic aftertaste. Storing water in a metal container really wasn’t the best idea, he mused, dropping the container in the mud. “Thank you.”

Jasper gave him a quick smile before walking ahead of him. He watched her move away from him, noticing how resolute her movements were. She walked stiffly, leaning forward against the gentle incline of the slope in front of them, looking straight ahead of her. With a frown, he noticed she did not have her sledgehammer with her. In fact, she seemed to be with him completely unprotected. A sigh escaped his lips as he followed her, jogging slightly. He slipped his way past her and stopped, forcing himself to block her path. Jasper halted just short of running into his chest piece. She looked up at him, visibly irritated.

“Yes?” she said impatiently. She really would have to learn to control her emotions. He held her gaze sternly before speaking.  
  
“Where is your weapon?” he asked bluntly. She raised both her brows then and gave him a look as if to say, ‘Do you think I’m completely stupid?’ She tugged her rucksack off her back once more and dug through its contents, this time pulling out a 10mm pistol.

“Right here,” she replied, holding it out. A small smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. “It’s small, but it worked for me back in Concord against a couple of raiders.” She sounded proud of herself. She held it in the sunlight, the steel of the barrel glinting dully. Danse almost smiled, but he couldn’t help but feel a little dismayed at the small pistol. Shooting humans was one thing, but turrets and security bots were another story.   
  
“I don’t think that will be adequate,” he stated, looking back up at her. Her smile faded, quickly replaced by a scowl. “It’s an effective weapon, but not powerful enough to take down whatever is in the ArcJet building. You stand a better chance of survival with your sledgehammer.”

A heavy sigh met his words, along with a well-practiced glare. It took all of his willpower not to roll his eyes at her. She reached behind her and dropped the pistol into her bag, mouth pressed into a thin line. She stepped around him angrily, spinning to walk backwards, facing him.

“Is anything good enough for you?” she asked bitterly, stopping and putting a hand on her cocked hip. Danse held back a grumble of exasperation; this woman was stubborn.   
  
“This isn’t about ‘nothing being good enough’ for me,” he said, his voice more patient than he felt. He walked past her, motioning for her to follow. He squinted against the sun as he trudged along. “A 10mm will do nothing against a steel-plated, machine-gun-equipped turret. Even you have to realize this.” He heard her jog to catch up with him, slowing only when she reached his side. She had to walk briskly to keep up with the long strides of his power armour.  
  
“It’s been working just fine for me for the past six weeks. How is this time going to be any different?” She was breathing a little heavily, struggling to keep up and talk at the same time. They stomped the last few steps up the hill before the paladin stopped again, this time looking down at her with a raised brow.   
  
“You took on turrets with that thing?” he asked, skeptical. His sentiment must have been apparent, because she stared at him, borderline insulted.  
  
“No, but I took down a big group of raiders with it and I’m just fine,” she replied, a petulant tone to her voice. He kept his brow raised, a silent ‘ _Go on,_ ’ passing between them. She flushed slightly, straightening her shoulders. “They were attacking people in Concord, a suburb not too far from Cambridge. I helped them take on some raiders that were giving them trouble.”  
  
Both his brows shot up at this revelation. He stayed silent, wondering whether he should believe her or not. There was really no reason for her to lie to him, but there was also no reason or her to be truthful, either. They weren’t friends, nor were they family; nothing but the promise of help bonded them at this very moment, and even though his mind was screaming ‘ _She’s insane’_ , he decided he believed her.  
  
“Fine,” he finally stated, starting his march back up. “But once I have the chance, I’m getting you a laser rifle. They’re much more effective and highly satisfying to use.”  
  
“… Satisfying.” There was a note of mirth when she spoke. He glanced at her quickly before pressing on, cheeks warming, and not from the sun this time. She snorted a laugh. “Is that so?”  
  
“Yes,” he replied, embarrassed at the implication of his statement. “They’re clean weapons. The lasers cauterize the wounds when they hit their target. Plus,” he added sheepishly, “I like the smell.”  
  
“The smell? Of what, burning flesh?” she asked, sounding horrified. This time Danse did roll his eyes; he was digging himself a hole. This was why he never discussed personal matters with subordinates. …Or people, for that matter.  
  
“No. The  _ozone_ smell, Cohen,” he specified, pulling his rifle off his hip.  _Righteous Authority_. He examined it closely; this rifle was his own, and he was damn proud of it. Danse had received a standard Brotherhood laser when he had joined years ago and added to it as the years went by: a longer barrel, a better stock to minimize recoil… He had made it purely his own.

Under Jasper’s curious observation, he took aim at the rusted carcass of some sort of vehicle and shot at it, the sharp _bzwap_  of the rifle echoing across the otherwise quiet wastes. He inhaled softly. “ _That_  smell.” He looked down at her, the ghost of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. She was staring at the sizeable mark the rifle’s laser shot had made in the side of the vehicle, awestruck.  
  
“Oh,” was all she seemed able to muster. Jasper looked at his rifle, and then at him. “You’re an odd man, Paladin Danse, but I suppose we all have something that rustles our jimmies.”  
  
When Jasper noticed his scowl, she laughed. She resumed their march towards their destination, sashaying ahead of him. Danse shook his head and followed suit, hooking his rifle into its holster. For a moment, nothing but their footsteps and the hiss and gentle creaking of his power armour accompanied them. An odd sense of peace fell over the duo as they walked; their earlier tension ebbed away, replaced by a certain calm. Danse appreciated that. Tension rarely ever meant something good. Teamwork was paramount during a mission, and he hoped he could instil that value in her.

Their journey dragged on, footstep after footstep, soldiering through the heat and uneven terrain. His mind jumped between being completely alert to mulling over their earlier conversation. Some of her words had stuck with the paladin:  _‘I just woke up from a two-hundred-odd-year coma on ice to find my husband dead, and my infant son missing.’_ It sounded impossible (and, again, insane) but she had said it with such conviction that he had grown curious.

“Jasper,” he said gently. She grunted in response, looking up at him. “Forgive me if I overstep my boundaries, but I’ve been meaning to ask you about your comment about a two-hundred-year coma earlier this morning.”

Jasper’s steps faltered and she had to stop before she tripped. Her breath hitched before she looked back up at him, eyes dull, her mouth a hard line. She hesitated before answering him.

“It was just an exaggeration,” she replied flatly. Her voice was hard again, the same tone she had used when they had argued. “Nothing more, nothing less, Paladin.” Danse sighed gently. She sounded uncomfortable, guarded; she spoke with the dismissiveness of someone that had lived through trauma. The paladin could tell she had something to say, a story to tell, but wasn’t ready. He had been in that position before. Cutler …

“Alright,” he soothed, looking back up ahead. He ignored the sadness that was tugging at his heart. He didn’t want to push her for information during their mission, but she would have to talk to him sooner or later, and he would have to make sure she did.

Things quieted back down between them. The paladin felt a surge of relief when the ArcJet Systems building came into view, its rusted orange and steel exterior glinting dully in the sunlight.

“We made it, soldier,” he stated, pointing to the building. Jasper snapped out of whatever reverie she had immersed herself in and looked up at the structure. “I’ll go in first, take out what I can, and you can follow me in when I signal an all-clear. Keep your pistol on your hip and ready to use at all times. Understood?”  
  
“Yes, sir,” she said, swallowing and looking up at her companion, pushing her sweaty bangs from her forehead. She looked nervous; her eyes were bright and her face was set, but he could see the fear clouding them. He couldn’t exactly fault her for that. She had bare-minimum protection when it came to armour, and nothing but that 10mm. Hell, even he would be nervous in her situation. He gave her what he hoped was a reassuring look (he was always terrible at those) and they marched towards the building’s front doors, determination pushing one heart and duty the other.


	5. Atomic Apple

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter killed me. Fair warning: this is a long one. I hope you all have your reading hats on!
> 
> Thank you so much for sticking with me on this - your patience is suuuuper appreciated.
> 
> A huge, mega, super special thank you to chiixil84 for beta-ing this chapter for me and making it cohesive. I couldn't have done it without her. Without further ado, enjoy!

Opening the ancient aluminum doors to the facility, Danse felt the building inhale for what could have possibly been the first time in two hundred years, the hot exterior air stirring the stale, frigid air within. He took a few tentative steps into the darkened foyer, the light spilling into the room from behind his enormous frame. Though his HUD allowed for some night vision capabilities, he instead decided to switch over to a heat signifying mode instead -- just in case.

As he moved a few strides deeper, he took a slow turn in this new spot to better assess the lofted ceilings' security, his gaze meticulously sweeping over the blurred, discolored edges of his vision.

"All clear," he called out eventually, turning his HUD back to a normalized vision while flicking on a bright lantern attached to his helmet's forehead. "Now, if only the rest of this facility will be as easy to maneuver through."

He watched as Jasper closed the doors behind her before she pulled her 10 mm back up to a readied position, the woman following his path until she was a meter behind him. She gave him a slight nod once she stopped, her gaze flickering up to his helmet before returning to their previous scanning.

Maybe this will be an easy mission, Danse thought as he once more took point. Despite having either forced his way through rusted-closed doors or simply finding the way cleared, it seemed like child's play navigating through the rubble-filled corridors, especially with Haylen's extended briefing this morning. He almost turned to his partner to express his opinions on the lack of security, almost wishing to tell Jasper to focus on collecting important resources rather than her guard, until he found the reason why.

Within a maintenance closet sat Protectron podules with their occupants laying on the floor, shredded beyond identification, and no blood or spent casings in sight.

 _How can you be so lax in a situation as dire as this?_  he wanted to scream at himself.  _There's more at stake here than just your pride._

Instead, he crisply strode through the room and over the destroyed remains, tightening the grip on  _Righteous Authority_  as he steeled his resolve once more.

He heard Jasper gasp as she entered the room after him, but did not break her stride to him.

"Synths," was all the paladin told her, his voice lowering as he raised his rifle higher.

Jasper, thankfully, didn't ask to clarify.

The offenders came within a few rooms of the Protectron remains, to which he and Jasper took care of without much worry. He was thankful they hadn't caught up with the pests in one of the previous corridors, unsure of how either would have handled the onslaught in such a restricted area.

They continued on once more, eventually coming to the main part of the facility they had their focus on: the engine core ignition test chamber.

Tighter than any of the other corridors had been, the walkway to the chamber had only about a foot on either side of his shoulders from the old concrete walls. Jasper huffed behind him in the darkness, shaking her head as she followed him into the walkway. Seeing as how some of the bulbs here had retained their luminescence, he decided to turn off the lantern on his helm to conserve some sort of energy for his fusion core -- after all, he had a gut feeling those synths weren't the last.

He sighed heavily and looked up and ahead at the closed door, determining if the keycard slider beside the handle was still an active hurdle for them. As he thought back to any possibility of overlooking a card on a desk or in a terminal, Jasper pressed herself against the wall as she slipped just before his large frame. She looked at the door for a moment, and then up at him.

“Do we need to unlock it?” she asked quietly.

They had been lucky so far, he determined. He simply hoped their luck wouldn't run short of the mission's completion, especially due to a door.

“I’ll verify,” he replied, being careful to avoid smacking into Jasper as he extended his arm to the door. She slipped behind him to give him more room, standing anxiously behind him. He pressed the door release button beneath the keycard slider, holding his breath for a second, only to find himself disappointed when the door didn’t budge. A soft sigh came from behind him as he felt her hand brush against the soft elbow joint of his power armor.

“Let me try something,” she said, staring into his helmet's visor for a moment before her eyes flickered to the door. He obliged, pressing himself as far as he could into the wall to allow her better access the door, curious as to what she had planned.

The woman crouched and stared at the door for a few seconds before letting out a soft laugh. “It’s a tumbler lock.” She glanced back at him, the gleam in her eye unmistakable. “I can probably pick this with a bobby pin.”

Danse frowned for a moment, incredulous that  _a tumbler lock_  was  the way out of this situation. Why would security be so lax in a building like this? He doubted that breaching the door would be as simple as lock picking, still feeling as though he had missed the keycard in a previous room, but he decided to let her try.

“Go ahead,” he said, thankful that his doubt wasn't betrayed in his voice. As an afterthought, he turned on his lantern once more in an effort to give her better lighting. She gave him a nod of thanks as she reached up with one hand to tug a pin from her hair, strands from her bun lazily falling beside her ear at their release, while the other tugged a screwdriver free from the pouch on her hip. After a moment of analyzing the lock, she carefully slipped the tools in and got to work.

He watched with bemused curiosity as she tweaked the lock, the woman muttering curses under her breath as she jiggled the pin in an attempt to turn the mechanism. After watching her struggle for a few seconds the paladin closed his eyes, gathering himself for what he believed would be a long wait. As soon as he decided this, he heard a click and an echoing yet soft noise of triumph from the woman kneeling before him. Opening his eyes, he saw her looking up at him with a beaming grin that rivaled the lantern on his helm.

“Got it,” she said jubilantly, shoving the screwdriver in its pouch as she brought herself to her full height. The paladin raised his brows despite himself; this woman was proving more and more useful as they went along…  _And,_  he admitted quietly to himself,  _impressively handy._

“That’s a skill they don’t teach in boot camp,” he said as she pressed the door release switch.

"What can I say," Jasper muttered, the tips of her ears the color of her hair.

The door opened after a quick hesitation and a strained hiss, revealing a vast, dark room. From what light Danse's helm provided, they were immediately greeted by the looming cap of a propulsion engine, the ancient project undertaken for the United States government that gave the company its notorious name. Grated stairs led down to a large, open area beneath the monstrous device, the ground dimly lit like worn down streetlights by the lights decorating the lower walls. Similarly to the entrance of the building, a wave of frigid air smashed into the two almost like a truck.

“It’s like a  _f-freezer_  in there,” she muttered through her shivering, taking a step out onto the metal grating to look deeper into the cavern. Danse nodded in agreement as even his armor refused to keep the coolness out, hesitating before he gingerly followed her out onto the metal grate; he had no idea how well the stairs ahead of him could have survived the last two centuries, and he would be damned if he was the one that made them crumble.

One step, then a second. No uncertain movement came from the grating, and the paladin released the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. “This should be it,” he said to her, glancing down as well to grant the room more light with his lantern. “The transmitter has to be in one of the rooms above us. Let's go look for a control room of some kind, and see if we can’t turn some of the power back on.”

He could feel her staring at him long before she asked, "Why would we need power? Seems like most of the electrical wiring here has been fried, so what good would that do us?"

Pointing with his light to the far edge of the cavern below, Danse stated, "Maybe it'll be enough to turn the elevator back on."  
  
A stiff nod was his answer as Jasper made her way down the stairs before him, Danse following closely. He took a closer look at his surroundings, eyeing the rocket engine that hung above them. The ancient machine seemed to be suspended in mid-air by rusted support beams and taut steel wiring, for the most part. The paladin briefly wondered if it was functional before looking back down, his senses still on high alert as discomfort kept nagging at him.

The vastness of the room paired with the ominous hanging piece of machinery above him didn’t make him feel secure one bit, and, given the amount of synths that had been in the building, he could've sworn this is where the synths would have preoccupied themselves.

Raising his rifle just a little higher, he kept scanning the room, an icy chill that had nothing to do with the cool air making his hair stand on end. When they made it to the bottom of the steps, Jasper stopped and pointed at a set of double doors cut into the jagged, blackened concrete.

“I’m going to suppose that that’s how I get in there,” she asked, her finger directing his gaze from the doors to a foggy, abused observation window across from their position.

“Yes,” he affirmed. “Go in, and I'll be right--”

He was interrupted by the unmistakable sound of clanking above them. The paladin frowned and turned towards the noise at the top of the stairs, not needing to turn his lantern light off to see the white/grey skeletal forms standing at the top of the stairs. Until they saw Danse's light, they hadn't seemed to have noticed them -- but now that the light shined directly on them, the few enemies above them began rushing down to greet them.

 _“Hostile sensor reading detected_.”

The artificial voices echoed through the chamber, reverberating ominously against the walls like the whispers of a nightmare. He felt Jasper grab his arm in a panic, her breath hitching in her throat.

Danse’s grip tightened on his rifle as he felt his heart sink, extending the arm she held out behind him to stop Jasper from engaging.

“Go,” he ordered as calmly as he could, giving her a light shove to the double doors. He kept his eyes on the figures above them, aiming  _Righteous Authority_ at whichever of the things' heads he could snipe first. “I’ll take care of this.  _Move!_ ”

He heard Jasper run behind him to the tunnel. Danse steadied himself and pulled the trigger as the first one lined up to his sights, the sharp sound of the laser stinging his ears as his blood pumped viciously alongside the noise. The synth’s head exploded with a loud crackle, a firework of blue and orange sparks showing the android’s shoulders. A distorted sound came from its voice module before it fell forward onto the stairs, its body tumbling down into a heap on the second landing. The paladin stared at it as it fell, the metal clattering loudly against the steps.

After that synth, he quickly shot the second, then the final one.

As soon as the androids' remains came to a halt, a cacophony erupted from the hallway above. The paladin gave a start and brought his gaze up to the main doors, trying to guess how many he'd be facing this time. Hurried footsteps and robotic voices reverberated against the inorganic walls as what sounded like dozens of synths made their way towards the sound of their counterparts falling. Dread struck him with the strength of a tidal wave and he braced himself, rifle aimed at the door.

_Oh, God._

_-oOo-_

Jasper kept repeating the mantra, " _Stay calm_ ," to herself while she stared at the consoles and dials in front of her, the  _phewm_ of Danse's first three shots long faded by now. She knew next to nothing about operating this kind of machinery and, with the constant flickering of the single fluorescent bulb above her, she couldn’t make out the faded labels beneath the various buttons. Jasper suddenly regretted not having taken the technologies class offered to her as an elective in both high school and university; she would have killed to have those skills in this moment.

All she could think was that leaving the paladin behind was a bad idea. Where did she even  _start?_  She had made it this far, but only with the paladin’s direction. Jasper knew she had to turn the mainframe’s power back on, but where was the switch? Where was  _anything_  in this glorified laboratory?  
  
She straightened up from the light blue console and glanced around her with a growl of frustration, tugging at the edges of her fraying bun as thoughts swarmed her. She needed to focus, and assess the situation. The only thing of note so far was a large red button in the center of the console in front of her, and that was absolutely no help -- she'd already tried pushing it, and nothing had happened.

 

She placed hands on her hips and sighed loudly, another growl on her lips.

“God dammit,” she muttered aloud, giving another glance around the room. If there was a switch, a lever, even something like a functional dial in this room, she would be ever-thankful.

Jasper was beginning to feel the pressure mount on her shoulders as she heard another series of shots echo from Danse's weapon. She was completely clueless as to what to do, a feeling she absolutely hated. Paladin Danse was depending on her, and for all she knew, he stood alone in the test chamber, probably regretting bringing her along. The thought left an unpleasant taste in her mouth, and as the seconds went by, she felt more and more useless.

The harsh cacophony of unfamiliar lasers being shot brought her back to reality. She frowned as she heard a loud shout echoing from the test chamber, followed by artificial voices yelling into a staticy mess. She whipped her head back towards the observation window just in time to see the red of Danse’s laser rifle flashing in time with the sound of  _Righteous Authority_ 's shots, while unfamiliar blue ones joined in on the light show. A deeper frown pulled on her face as she heard Danse's voice through the noise, the woman hurrying to the foggy observation window.

In horror, Jasper watched as what seemed like dozens of synths came rushing down the stairs at her companion, each screaming incoherently as they swarmed the man.

A jolt of urgency snapped her back to her senses at the sight. She had to concentrate.

She gave what felt like the thousandth glance around the room before her gaze zeroed in on a terminal against the far wall across from her. She mentally kicked herself; how had she missed  _that_  thing before? Angry at her lack of attention, Jasper rushed to the terminal and made short work of figuring out the password -- luckily, she’d discovered her knack for hacking into protected terminals, as long as the password wasn’t too long -- and scrolled through the options blinking on the dusty screen, searching for anything she could potentially use. When given the option to turn on the auxiliary mainframe, she nearly punched the enter key in reflex.

There was a sickening moment of silence before the facility gave a loud groan and a shudder. Relief flooded her when the sound of disused generators grinding back to life harmonized perfectly with the crackling of ancient power lines bursting back to life. It was a sweet melody of victory that had Jasper's anxiety ebb away somewhat.

The distorted voice of an A.I. warbled through the static-filled speaker system, but she paid no mind to it as she ran back to the observation window to check on the paladin.

She watched as Danse shot down synth after synth, the man flinching whenever a blue laser hit his armoured body. Jasper knew she would be no good in the room with the paladin, especially with the amount of enemies that he had lined up against him; she had next to no armour on, and was still very shaky with a gun.

He'd protected her this far; now it was her turn.

Turning away from the window, she looked around the room for a way to help her companion as the remaining, non-burnt out lights flickered back to life.

A red, blinking light caught her attention on the console she'd previously been at before. She looked down and noticed that the dud-red button was blinking at her, glaringly bright despite its age. Tilting her head, she briefly wondered what it was for when the facility’s computer spoke:

_“Engine core power restored. Core is primed and ready for firing.”_

Jasper’s heart leapt in her chest. Powering the engine would get rid of those synths in one go, saving the paladin and ridding the facility of the threat. Biting her lip, she weighed her options: firing the engine and annihilating the synths before they could kill both of them sounded like a good idea, but what if she ended up killing the paladin, too? Running back out into the chamber would be a death sentence for her; she may have had managed with her 10 mm up until now, but seeing as those things seemed trained solely for combat, she wasn't sure that was the greatest idea, either.

A small noise of frustration escaped her as she ran a hand through her bangs. She glanced up through the window and only hesitated for a moment before closing her eyes and pressing the button.

-oOo-

Danse grunted as he shot the umpteenth synth. Where were they all coming from? Though they had terminated a few making their way to the test chamber, there had been no signs in there being  _this_  many. No room had remained unverified, as per his request, and Jasper had given the all-clear for every one of them.

The paladin ducked as a blue flash of light zoomed by his head. He shot back, the synth crumbling in a heap with a crackle. He groaned as he heard two more drop behind him and turned to shoot one down and kick the other as it lunged at him. Frustration was mounting inside him every time he destroyed one of those  _things_ ; what was Jasper doing? With the ruckus he was causing, he was damn sure she was well aware of the onslaught of hostiles he was single-handedly taking care of, so she couldn't have forgotten his predicament.

 

As he kicked another synth away, its chest caving under the force of his armored foot, he heard the core above him give a shudder. The room went still for a moment; Danse looked up at the core above him just as the facility’s computer’s voice echoed above the synth's continued screaming:

“ _Countdown to engine core test initiated. 5 …”_

He felt all blood drain from his face as he stared at the now rumbling engine above him.  _What has she done?_

_“4 …”_

The synths around him scrambled to aim and shoot at him, avoiding as many shots as he could as he kept firing on the horde of enemies.  _Is she THAT stupid?_

_“3 …”_

He was panting, exertion finally starting to sink in as he felt the blasts of some of the blue lasers hitting him at once. The roar of the engine’s ignition deafened him. He kept his fire on the stairs, keeping as many of the synths as he could at bay.  _WHY would she press that button?_

“ _2 …”_

His heart skipped a beat. He was too far from the stairs to run to a higher level in time, and the elevator was on the opposite end of the chamber; unless he wanted to risk some of the synths following him inside, he couldn't follow Jasper, either. He looked around him in a panic. The paladin stared at opened corridor, and started to run towards it in a last-ditch effort, ignoring the blue lasers hitting his back as he ran.  _How am I supposed to escape this?_

_“1 … Engine firing.”_

A blinding flash of white flame was the last thing the paladin saw before buckling under the pressure, a loud rush filling the chamber as he was forced into a kneeling position. He screamed when the flames hit his body with the force of a tidal wave, covering his head with his hands, the shock reverberating violently through his frame.

The paladin could feel the searing heat through the heavy padding of his suit of armour; the HUD of his helmet flashed red, warning him of extreme temperatures before flickering out. He was panicking, every fiber of his being screaming at him to get out of the flames, under cover, but he had no idea which way the tunnel was anymore, much less if he could even move.

His breath was quick and uneven, whimpers escaping his lips as he felt the skin around the joints of his armour starting to heat to very uncomfortable levels. Danse closed his eyes and gritted his teeth against the discomfort. He was terrified to look up, to move, fearing the absolute worst; what if his power armour was welded together and he was stuck? What if he never got out? What if his fusion core detonated? What if –

As suddenly as they had started, the flames halted, the rushing slowly dying out as the inferno ceased with a sputter. Breathing heavily, the paladin took a moment to collect himself before slowly opening his eyes. The ground glowed a vicious red beneath him, blackened elsewhere by the hell that was just unleashed. He looked up, relieved he could still move at least his head, and stared at the multiple glowing piles of orange-and-red ashes dusting the floor. There was no movement, no more sound in the chamber save for the rushing in his ears and the pounding of his heart.

Groaning softly, he let his head drop back down. Hurried footsteps echoed from the tunnel and stopped next to him, flustered breathing punctuated by a cry of horror.

“Oh my God, are you alright?!” Jasper asked, voice high-pitched. Danse let out a drawn out groan, dropping his hands to rest on the ground.

“Got… Cooked by those flames,” he managed hoarsely, looking up at her. “Thanks to my power armour, I’m still in one piece.” Despite his words, she still looked absolutely horrified. She made a movement to reach out to him, but seemed to decide against it as she withdrew her hands, clasping them together against her chest until her knuckles were white. She sucked her lower lip into her mouth, golden eyes wide, brow pinched in concern.  


“I’m so,  _so_ –”

He held up a hand to silence her, slowly forcing his frame to straighten up. He very much did not want to hear anything from her right now, even if she meant well.

Danse’s expression scrunched against the stiffness of his armour; he would have to do extensive repairs on the suit, but it was still seemingly functional, minus the fried HUD of his helmet. He was just thankful his armour wasn’t impeding his ability to move.

“The important thing is that we’re still alive,” he muttered, flexing his arms. The joints creaked ominously, but allowed some returned flexibility. He did the same to his legs before continuing, “We have to find a way to get to the transmitter. That’s our goal.” She nodded silently, apprehension still etched on her face, her worry lines accentuated by the dim glow of the lights high above them. He moved his gaze from her, refocusing on the elevator doors. “The elevator seems to be functional, at least. We can use it to get to the control room. Move out.”

She nodded and made her way to the elevator quickly. He watched her walk for a few seconds before shaking his head and sighing. He followed her and, once the doors creaked open, stepped into the small space alongside her, forcing Jasper to press herself against the back wall to accommodate his large frame. He punched the ‘up’ button and, with a jerk and a groan of protest, the ancient mechanism set into motion.

A distorted  _ding_  rang when they reached the control room as the doors slid open to reveal a short hallway. The room beyond was brightly lit and, of course, occupied.

_More goddamn synths?_

Holding an arm across the elevator’s door to stop Jasper from slinking out, he crouched low and once more pulled out  _Righteous Authority_ , which had somehow remained intact and functional, and took aim at the atrocity’s head. With one quick pull of the trigger, the shot severed the thing’s head instantly. A second abomination sprung out from behind a desk at its comrade's demise, only to be met with the same fate.

The paladin exhaled as he stood back up, motioning for Jasper to follow him. He clipped his rifle back onto his hip after a quick sweep of the room.

“The transmitter has to be in this room,” he affirmed. He turned to look at Jasper, the latter having given a start when he spoke. Though still visibly shaken, she looked up at him with a newly guarded expression on her face. “Turn it upside-down if you have to. We are not leaving without it. Understood?”

“Yes, sir,” she answered, her voice small. The woman walked quietly to the nearest filing cabinet and rummaged through its contents, the paladin following her example with an overturned desk.

They searched in silence, crossing paths only when absolutely needed. Danse was angry at the woman’s recklessness. He wanted to ask her  _why_  she had thought igniting the engine would be a good idea, but he didn’t trust himself to speak. His question would have to wait until he had cooled down. A strange sense of irony washed over him at his thought, and he had to fight to keep an exasperated chuckle from slipping out.

After what felt like an eternity, Jasper cleared her throat behind him.

“Paladin?” she squeaked apprehensively. Danse looked over his shoulder and nodded. “I think I’ve got it.”

She held up the device, a strange motherboard of sorts. He marveled silently at how small the transmitter was: it fit in one of her hands perfectly. He sighed, relieved that they had at least accomplished this much successfully.

“Outstanding,” he said. “Let’s get out of here. We can take the service elevator to the surface.” He jerked his thumb towards the wall behind him. She dipped her head in acknowledgement and stepped around him, slipping the device in her rucksack. He walked behind her slowly, casting one last baleful look at the control room before stepping into the waiting elevator.

They could come back later to pick up whatever they'd left behind.

-oOo-

The day’s heat had not subsided when they stepped out of the bunker. Danse pulled off his helmet with a soft groan; as hot as it was, the outside air felt cool and fresh against the overheated skin of his face. Sweat covered his entire body, and he was  _very_ uncomfortable to say inthe least, but there was no way he was getting out of his suit out in the open like this.

Jasper moved to stand at his side, awkward in her silence. He sympathized with the woman; he still wasn’t very happy with her, and she was much too hasty in her wild decisions, but he really couldn’t have accomplished his goal without her help.

The paladin sighed, slowly turning to face her. She snapped her head up from staring at her dusty boots and, with alarming attention, looked right at him for the first time in hours. H blinked, taken aback by her sudden attentiveness.

 _What was she thinking?_  he wondered for a half-beat of a moment.

He took a moment to collect his thoughts, clearing his throat and straightening his posture.

“We need to discuss what happened in there,” he began firmly, choosing his words carefully. “We accomplished our mission, and have the transmitter in our possession. However, things weren’t as I wanted them to be.” She frowned, her jaw slacking. “It was a mess.”

“A mess?” she questioned tightly, tilting her head as she put one of her fists on her hip. “I didn’t think it went that badly. I mean, we accomplished our mission, right?”

“It didn’t go badly?” He sniffed out a laugh, shaking his head. “That sweep was sloppy. We were caught unprepared  _multiple_ times, and that is absolutely unacceptable.”

Jasper visibly shrunk a little at the anger in his voice. He closed his eyes briefly and took a breath to calm himself. When he looked back down at her, she had bowed her head to look down at her boots again. “However,” he added, raising his brows as he met her gaze once more. She looked up at him through her lashes, eyes sharp and expression unreadable. “I’m not certain I could have accomplished the mission alone.”

His companion eyed him warily, lifting her head to look up at him once more. When he was satisfied she was paying attention, the paladin pressed on, determined to say what he needed before he let exhaustion win him over.

“There are two important matters that I feel we need to discuss. First,” he began, pulling his rifle from his hip, “I’d like to compensate you for your help. I want you to take this.” He hesitated only a moment before holding out  _Righteous Authority_  to her. Her mouth formed a slack ‘o’ as she stared at the rifle, and then back up at him. His stomach gave a pang as he pushed it towards her, the woman gingerly taking it in her two hands. “It’s my own personal modification of the standard Brotherhood rifle. I hope it will treat you as well as it has me for the past four years.”

“Won’t you need it?” she inquired, turning the rifle in her hands. She looked almost afraid of it.

“A soldier of my rank has more than one weapon in his arsenal, soldier,” he replied, giving a small smile. “I’ll miss her, but you need something that’s more powerful than your 10mm to protect you.” Jasper smiled wryly back at him, the lines on her face relaxing. “As far as the second matter, I want you to think about my proposal." Danse's voice hardened slightly, if only for formality's sake. "We had a lot thrown at us back there. Our op could have ended in disaster, but you kept your cool – mostly – and handled it like a soldier.” Her ears and cheeks reddened at his reference to the engine core, sinking her head into her shoulders. “There’s no doubt in my mind that you’ve got what it takes to join the Brotherhood of Steel.”

Jasper looked hesitant; she bit her lower lip and opened her mouth to speak, but Danse shook his head.

“The way I see it, you’ve got a choice: you could spend your life wandering from place to place, trading an extra hand for a meager reward,” he intoned, motioning towards  _Righteous Authority_ , “or, you could join our ranks and leave your mark on the world. So, what do you say?”

Jasper bit her lip once more, this time looking him directly in the eyes. He felt his heart skip a beat; he held her gaze as steadily as he could, praying that his discomfort wouldn’t show.

He was  _mesmerized_  by her. Her golden eyes bore into his own brown ones, searching for what he did not know, and after what felt like an eternity, she slowly nodded.

“I’ll join,” she affirmed, straightening herself. He allowed himself to smile fully, the first real smile he’d had in weeks.

“I’m glad to hear,” he replied cheerily. “I’m proud to have you be a part of our organization. Welcome to the team, initiate.”

A wavering smile answered his own. Without further ceremony, the duo started the trek back to the police station in silence, the paladin leading the way through the scorched wasteland and, hopefully, back to safety.


	6. Rusty Nail

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I gave them first names, yay!
> 
> Scribe Samantha (Sam) Haylen and Knight Logan Rhys, at your service.

There hadn’t been much conversation since Danse and Jasper had come back from their mission at ArcJet. In fact, there hadn’t been much noise in general; since their takedown of the horde of ferals, the station had been rather still. Logan had patrolled the compound’s perimeter multiple times while the paladin had been gone and had come across nothing – not even a radroach – and Haylen had taken that time to try and clear some of the rubble from the building.

The paladin had walked into the station practically dragging his armoured feet, a practically dragged-along Jasper following suit. He had taken off both helm and hood, his usually voluminous hair flat against his head and bangs heavy with sweat. Jasper had followed him in, looking exhausted; the tight bun she’d had when they had departed was frayed, and her once relatively clean vault suit was stained with god knows what.

His armour looked blackened and he moved with a certain stiffness, the suit creaking more than usual. The scribe made a mental note to ask about the suit’s condition once debriefed, assessing their physical condition from her position behind the counter to check for any injuries. Aside from a little exertion on Jasper’s part, the scribe spotted nothing wrong with them and had given them leave to take care of themselves.

While Danse had headed immediately to the holding cells to take off his power armour, Jasper had unceremoniously plunked down her rucksack on the table Haylen had been sitting at and rummaged through it, emerging with a small circuit board.

“Here you go,” she had said, handing the sensitive object to the scribe. Despite the effort of the day’s events being clear on her face, the woman had looked proud.

“Thank you,” Sam responded, carefully plucking the object from the woman’s outstretched hand. The scribe gave the transmitter a quick once-over to check for any damage before glancing back up at her counterpart with a smile. “You’ve done us a great service. I suppose the paladin rewarded you accordingly?”

“Definitely more than I deserved,” was her tired answer. The corners of Jasper’s mouth had lifted in a small smile then, the gesture not quite reaching her eyes. The scribe gave Jasper an inquisitive look, but the woman had picked up her rucksack and walked away without another word, dusty boots _thump-thump-_ ing against the worn floorboards. Sam’s brow had furrowed then; the paladin never rewarded anybody he deemed unfit, and with that knowledge, the scribe simply assumed that Jasper was just being hard on herself.

The next day was as uneventful as the last. As soon as the sun breached the horizon, Haylen got to work setting up the transmitter, Rhys helping her as much as he could. Soldiers like him weren’t meant to do the handiwork of scribes, but she found that his height helped with reaching certain wires and making connections. Once they were certain that the transmitter was up and running, they made their way back down to the foyer, Rhys promising to join her for supper later that evening once his rounds were done.

Danse had taken Jasper to a road not too far from the station, setting up a ramshackle shooting range with old barrels. Haylen had decided to join them, observing the impromptu training session from her perch on a low wall near them. She laughed when the paladin got frustrated at the inexperienced wastelander; he was used to dealing with people who had more discipline with weapons, and teaching a woman that was completely green was proving to be a challenge. A crunching sound behind her alerted her to Rhys’ presence.

“What’s she doing with that thing?” He jutted his chin in their direction, his eyes narrowed, sounding borderline insulted. Sam assumed he was referring to _Righteous Authority_ ; it had seemed strange that the paladin would let the wastelander use his personal weapon, but the scribe had chosen not to question it. Haylen glanced back around at him over her shoulder and shrugged.

“Target practice,” she answered simply. She turned back towards Danse and Jasper, watching as he corrected the wastelander’s stance. Rhys snorted and stood next to the scribe, leaning against the wall, his arms crossed loosely.

“I don’t understand him,” he stated after a short bout of silence. Sam looked at him, brow raised. Logan kept his gaze locked onto the duo as he spoke, his expression mirroring his tone. “We didn’t come to this hellhole to help people learn how to shoot rusty barrels.”

“No, I suppose not,” she agreed, sliding off the wall to stand next to her teammate. “But how else is he supposed to repay her for the help? We can’t exactly spare food nor ammo, and we can’t just let her stay here.”

“I think not shooting her on sight when she showed up in the middle of the night was good enough,” Rhys grumbled, his voice low. “The fact that she’s even still around is a hindrance to our mission. Wastelanders shouldn’t even _be_ allowed in a military compound.”

“Danse doesn’t see a problem with it, and neither should you, Logan.” She looked back up at the soldier, exasperated. “She’s not causing any problems, and she actually helps out when we need her to.”

“Don’t tell me you’re putting her before me,” he seethed. “You don’t know her. You don’t know what her motives are. Hell, we don’t even know where she’s from. You’re smarter than that, Sam.”

The scribe stared at him, hurt. “What, no!” she exclaimed, frowning. “I just don’t think she’s that much of a nuisance. Unless you have something constructive to say, I don’t want to hear you say anything else about her.”

She started to walk away from the knight but was stopped when he grabbed her upper arm. She turned to face him with an indignant squeak.

“I know where my loyalties are. Keep that in mind, scribe,” he hissed before letting her go and walking off at a brisk pace. She stared at his retreating form before falling into step behind him, stuck between wanting to put the soldier in his place and not wanting to say he was wrong, either.

A few hours later, Sam was going over Danse’s report, ensuring that it was well structured. The paladin had chosen to key in the log himself, despite his disdain for typing. It was a shame, really, given the paladin’s natural talent with words.  She always enjoyed reading over his works and this report was no different. The mission had gone along well, despite a few interruptions by Institute synths. In fact, nothing of note seemed to have happened. Except …

Sam blinked at the black-and-green screen as she reached the end of the report, disbelief fogging her mind. The flickering words blinked back at her, unwavering. She had done _what_ now?

“Logan, I need you to take a look at this,” she called out, not taking her eyes off the screen. A grunt came from the room to her left in response, Rhys’ muffled, heavy footsteps the only sound in the station. He leaned over a table, grabbing his favoured rifle, and began wiping it with a dirty rag.

“You know I don’t like that sorta thing, Sam,” he said, not even bothering to look at her. She quelled the irritation that welled up inside her before jerking her head to the monitor.

“Read this bit of the report.”

Logan raised a thick brow inquisitively at her harsh tone before setting his rifle down with an exaggerated sigh. He lumbered over, squinting to focus on the green lettering. As he read, she watched his expression change from confusion to horror, and finally to one of anger.

“What the _fuck_ was she thinking!?” the knight shouted, his eyes flashing angrily. His voice dripped with disdain as he gave the scribe his _‘I told you so’_ look. “I _knew_ she was stupid. Completely incompetent!” He tugged his hand away from her chair, balling it into a fist while the other clenched and unclenched. “ _Firing the test engine?_ While Top was in the god damn _test chamber_?”

The scribe sat quietly, letting his reaction sink in. This explained why the paladin’s armour had been so finicky since the mission, and why it had seemed so dark. Her stomach knotted with the realization that Danse very well could have died, and there was nothing that both she and Rhys could have done to prevent it from happening. She yet again couldn’t disagree with the knight, not without dismissing Jasper’s colossal lack of judgement.

“Look,” she began, forcing herself to remain calm. “Why don’t we just talk to them? Try and figure out what made her think that this was the only way out?”

“You have to stop being so _nice_ , Sam,” he spat, turning his angry gaze on her. “She fucked up. You put yourself on her side, and look how that went. She’s a loose cannon, one that we can’t afford. I _told_ you.”

Sam stayed quiet. He was right, again. She had defended the wastelander, had taken the time to try and dispel Logan’s doubts, for it all to backfire spectacularly.

Rhys growled at her silence, kicking at a chair, muttering a string of curses under his breath.

He sat down heavily at one of the other chairs, his seat nearly splintering beneath the weight of his burly frame. He crossed his arms and began chewing the inside of his cheek, his dark eyes clouded with a silent but very potent rage. _Oh, is Jasper in for it,_ the scribe thought quietly. Had she not been angry herself, she would have felt sorry for the newcomer, but given the circumstances, well… She couldn’t really _blame_ the knight.

The scribe stood stiffly, the report proving satisfactory despite its contents. Bewilderment still clawed at her stomach, chest constricting in anger with every thought of the paladin’s brush with death. Sam would have to speak with both Paladin Danse and the new initiate for clarification. She needed to know _why_ , and she would ask as soon as the paladin brought his new subordinate back from training.

As if on cue, the doors to the compound opened, sunlight spilling into the dusty reception area. Danse bounded in the station with a spring in his step, panting lightly, looking no less than invigorated by the physical activity. The paladin seemed to barely register Sam and Logan’s presence in the foyer, focusing on the initiate instead.

Jasper, on the other hand, was a mess; her high ponytail was frazzled, her cheeks red, sweat plastering her bangs to her forehead. She was breathing heavily, an almost pained look on her face. She leaned against the peeling wall, clutching at her ribs through her vault suit, face scrunching up at an apparent cramp.

“You’ll get better at the physical work eventually,” encouraged the paladin, authoritatively nonchalant. Jasper groaned before shooting him a despairing look, looking thoroughly unconvinced.

Sam swallowed against the hard lump in her throat at the sight of him. She was about to speak when she was interrupted by the loud scrape of Rhys’s chair.

The ancient seat clattered to the ground as he quickly stood. Danse finally turned to greet his remaining squad members, still not quite registering the tense atmosphere that clung to the dusty air.

Rhys ignored his commanding officer, stomping right by the man. Four wide strides brought him to the tall redhead and, with a sound resembling a growl, grabbed Jasper by the collar, pressing his forearm against the base of her throat as he forced the woman against the wall.

A squeak escaped the woman’s lips as her eyes widened, fear flashing across her face. As she gasped for air, she glanced between the paladin and the knight, confusion fueling her panic. Danse stood in the open doors of the station, shock rooting him to the spot.

“What –“

“What. Is. Your. _Problem_?” the knight snarled, glaring menacingly into her face. His voice rose with every word, punctuating each one with a light shove. “Who the _Hell_ starts up a god damn rocket engine with someone still under it? _Back off_ ,” he warned as Haylen stepped forward, desperate to stop his attack.  Jasper clawed at his arm, her short nails ineffective against his padded flight suit. Her attempts at shoving the knight off her did next to nothing against the vice of his grip. “You could have KILLED him, you fucking moron!”

Danse stepped forward and grabbed Rhys’ shoulders, prying the knight away from the shaken initiate. Rhys struggled against the paladin’s hold as Jasper clung to the wall, the woman staring at her attacker incredulously. Haylen ran a hand down her face in embarrassment at Rhys’s display. _For God’s sake, Logan,_ she thought, glaring at her teammate.

“Stand down, Rhys,” ordered the paladin with forced calm, body angled towards Rhys. Ignoring his commanding officer once more, the knight easily stepped around him, shoving his finger in Jasper’s face.

“I told Haylen the second you two left for your little field trip that you were trash,” he jeered. Jasper visibly bristled then, pushing away from the wall to bring herself to her full height.

“I’m _what_?” she hissed, amber eyes narrowing. There was something dangerous in her gaze, something which Rhys either chose to ignore, or missed entirely.

“ _Trash_.”

The paladin shoved his body between the two, creating a barricade as Jasper started forward to bridge the gap between herself and the knight.

“I said stand DOWN,” the paladin commanded, voice booming. He stared down Rhys, keeping his arm across the knight’s chest, his other behind him as he struggled to keep them apart.

Haylen made sure to stand back, not wanting to get involved in the fray. She watched helplessly, unsure of what to do or say to try and defuse the situation.

Danse’s usually steady gaze was replaced with an unimpressed glower. Rhys looked like he wanted to resist Danse, to completely disregard the discipline instilled in him, but when he met his superior’s eyes, his resolve faltered. His fists unclenched as he backed away, protocol seemingly taking over for the time being. The knight shot one last venomous glare at the wastelander before storming past Haylen and disappearing into their sleeping quarters.

The scribe was trembling, emotions switching erratically between anger at the initiate, frustration with Rhys, and relief that Danse had stepped in. With no training, there was no way the redhead would have been able to take on the seasoned soldier in a fistfight. She would have been knocked down in a few seconds flat, and they would have had to deal with much more than hurt egos at that point.

Haylen closed her eyes briefly before looking at her commanding officer, who was in turn looking at her searchingly, still holding back his subordinate.

“Care to explain what that was about, scribe?” Boy, did he sound unimpressed. Sam’s cheeks reddened, still embarrassed.

“The – your report, sir,” she replied. Jasper groaned next to their commanding officer, eyes closing. Danse’s mouth thinned to a straight line, keeping his gaze steady. He lowered his arm and placed a hand on his hip, waiting. “I – we – went over it, and we were shocked to read what had happened in the engine core room. We were unimpressed by Cohen’s massive lack of judgement.” A sigh from the paladin met her words, irritation clear on his face.

“And you felt that the best way to deal with your feelings was to attack her?”

“No, sir. That wasn’t discussed,” the scribe assured him hastily. She cursed Rhys’ lack of tact before resuming. “I simply wanted to discuss it with both you and Jasper. Just ask why she’d risk your life like that.”

“I think we’d all like to know why she’d be so fucking stupid,” Rhys shouted from the other room. The knight emerged from the sleeping quarters, still visibly angry. He shot a look at the initiate before crossing his arms, stopping at the top of the stairs. “Go on, talk. We won’t be distracted by your pretty face and smooth talk like Danse seems to be.”

“ _Rhys_ ,” Sam hissed. It was her turn now to glare at the knight, Danse doing the same. She gave him a ‘ _Shut your mouth_ ’ look before turning to lock eyes with Jasper, green meeting gold. “What prompted you to make such a brash decision?”

The woman bit her lip and stayed quiet, never looking away from the scribe as she thought. “It was the only thing I could do to help,” she eventually answered, shrugging. She spoke with more confidence than she showed, the scribe noted. “I’m awful with a gun, and there was no way I’d have been able to even make it to Paladin Danse without getting torn to shreds by the synths.”

Jasper sighed heavily and straightened her posture, eyes flicking towards Rhys before continuing, her voice tight. “I couldn’t have done anything helpful were I in that chamber. Either I would have died, or Danse would have died trying to protect me. You can take your pick, but I’d much rather have both of us here than having the death of one, or both, of us hanging over you.”

Rhys snorted next to Sam, earning another glare from the scribe.

“Believe me, I wouldn’t give a shit if Top came back without you,” the knight spat. Ignoring Jasper’s sniff of a laugh, he turned to face his superior. “Danse, you can’t still think it’s a good idea to give her a spot with us. Not after _that_. She’s insane, knows next to nothing about what we do or what we stand for. She almost _killed_ you, for God’s sake.”

“But she didn’t.” The paladin’s voice was flat, tired. “I want to make something extremely clear: I trust her. She is an initiate of the Brotherhood. She did what she could, given her lack of combat training. I will not have my motives questioned by anyone here, and until you learn to respect everyone regardless of their rank or experience, you can enjoy cleanup duty. There’s a shovel in the stairwell and plenty of feral guts still pasted out there to keep you busy. Dismissed.”

Hesitation from the knight made Haylen’s stomach knot, readying herself for another outburst.

“Yes, sir,” Rhys eventually said. His voice still had an edge to it and he looked absolutely fuming at the idea of scraping dead ferals from scorching concrete, but he posed no argument as he turned and left the trio, the paladin staring at his back.

“Asshole,” Jasper muttered as she walked up the steps, wrenching down the zipper on her vault suit, jaw clenched.

“Language,” admonished Danse tiredly, following suit. The scribe took a moment to breathe before ultimately going back to her seat at the terminal, staring at the screen blankly. She saved the document and without anything else to do, the scribe busied herself with the evening meal.


	7. Frostbite

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Emotions. Emotions everywhere.

Danse didn’t think he would ever be thankful to hear the sound of groaning pipes, and yet here he was, standing in the dim bathroom of the police station with a bar of soap and the cleanest rag he could find. He thanked whatever higher power had graced the station with a working water pump. The water stank, was brown with the rust of ancient pipes, and was definitely irradiated, but he forgave the sting it gave his skin in exchange for a somewhat clean face.

The paladin dried his face, taking a good look at himself for the first time in what felt like days. His beard was scruffy and his skin was red from where he had scrubbed it nearly raw to get rid of the sweat and dirt that had accumulated. His cheeks looked sunken in; he attributed that to the strict rationing they had been forced to implement. The bags under his eyes, however, were definitely due to his lack of sleep.

He sighed before hanging the rag on the rusty towel holder.

Exhaustion was becoming a permanent feeling for the paladin; whether it was physical or mental, Danse could no longer tell the difference. Between constantly having to ward off the hostilities of the Commonwealth and dealing with a worse-for-wear team, the immense pressure that he carried was really beginning to take its toll.

He walked out of the bathroom and into the sleeping area, absentmindedly tugging his flight suit back up over his shoulders. The sun had been down for a few hours; Rhys, who had spent the better part of the afternoon scraping guts off the sidewalk, was already asleep, snoring lightly. Haylen had decided to take one more look at the radio tower on the roof before turning in, promising the paladin not to take more time than she needed. His new initiate, however, was nowhere to be seen.

With a frown, he made his way to the foyer. Danse spotted Jasper standing by the table, one foot propped on a chair. She was lacing her boot as tightly as she could, tugging on the laces with unnecessary force.

“Where are you going?” he asked quietly, zipping his flight suit. She gave a start and looked up at him, eyes wide. When she saw who it was, she relaxed, giving a noncommittal sniff.

“Away,” she answered curtly. He cocked an eyebrow and simply looked at her, waiting for an explanation. When she gave none, Danse stepped forward, casting a shadow across her. 

“You are not leaving this compound,” he stated. Jasper said nothing as she switched feet, staring determinedly at her boot. The paladin reached out and took her wrist, pulling it gently away from her handiwork. She glared up at him. “You’re going to stay, and tell me what you’re thinking.” Silence. “That’s an order,” he added sternly.

“Fine,” she grumbled, stomping her foot to the ground. He let go of her wrist, bringing his hand to his hip. She threw him a petulant glance before sitting at the table, back straight. Danse did the same, steeling his emotions.

“Talk.”

She sighed. “I don’t want to stay where I’m not wanted,” she murmured. Defeat clouded her eyes and she lowered her gaze to her hands. She picked at the skin around her nails, biting her lip. The paladin gave a slow nod, understanding dawning on him.

“Stop right there,” Danse said, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the table. She looked back up at him, and this time, he was the one to ensure eye contact. “Is this about Rhys?” She nodded, holding his gaze. The paladin sighed before rubbing his eyes.

“You don’t need his approval, Jasper.” His tone changed from stern to something he hoped was reassuring. She seemed a little surprised at hearing him say her first name instead of her rank, but she listened. “You don’t need anyone to validate your actions. Except maybe me,” he added with a small smile. Jasper didn’t return it, looking a little unimpressed with his attempt at humour. He kicked himself mentally; why did he even try to be funny anymore?

“I appreciate the sentiment, paladin,” she began slowly, “But what’s the use of putting effort into all of this when half your team clearly dislikes me?”

“One man shouldn’t change your resolve, soldier,” he rebuked, authoritative once more. “Not everyone is going to like you. Especially not in this world.” He sighed gently, leaning back into his chair. He made an effort to look into her eyes again, determined to get her to understand what he was saying. “The person I’ve gotten to know so far exhibits strength and a strong sense of justice. You’re exactly what the Brotherhood looks for in a recruit.”

Uncertainty met his words in the form of guarded eyes. Jasper went silent once more, weighing his words, biting her lip again as she thought. His eyes flicked to them before refocusing on his subordinate as he waited for a reply.

A silence stretched between them once more. They kept their eyes locked onto each other for what seemed like an eternity, the wariness in her eyes clashing with the sincerity in his.

In the dim light of the lantern that was set on the receptionist’s counter, her eyes looked once more like molten gold. The tiniest movements made them almost shimmer, a hypnotizing dance of amber and orange.

In a rare moment of vulnerability, the paladin reached out and took her hand in his and squeezed. Her eyes narrowed but she didn’t pull away; rather, she looked down at his hand, curiosity replacing the scrutiny in her eyes. She looked back up at him, questioning.

Beneath her intoxicating gaze, Danse struggled to find the words to express his sentiment. “At least give me a chance to show you what you can be,” he managed to say, letting go of the breath he hadn’t noticed he’d been holding.

A shuffling sound from the stairwell brought the paladin back to his senses. Flustered, he glanced around and saw Haylen walking across the threshold, the scribe stopping when she noticed both paladin and initiate looking at her. Her cheeks reddened before she saluted him. Danse hastily pulled his hand away from Jasper’s, clumsily returning the gesture.

“Everything is functioning beautifully, sir,” she said. He nodded in response, his mouth dry. “I’ll be going to sleep now. Goodnight, sir. Jasper,” the scribe added awkwardly, giving a quick nod to the woman before hurrying to the dark sleeping quarters.

Danse cleared his throat and slowly stood, cheeks warm. “We should do the same,” he said to Jasper, giving her a meaningful look. Jasper nodded slowly and rose to her full height, resigned. As they walked in silence to their beds, the paladin hoped that she would be there to greet him the next day.

-oOo-

Danse awoke in a panic, his head throbbing. Damn nightmares.

Screwing his eyes shut against the pain, he propped himself on his elbow, his nose abnormally warm. As he reached up to rub his nose, he felt something wet smear across the back of his hand. He frowned and looked down to see bright red blood staining his skin. With a groan, he slipped out of bed and made his way to the bathroom to clean himself up.

Thinking back to when he had previously come forward to Haylen seeking relief from the near-constant headaches, she had probed him, pelting him with questions: how often did he sleep? How long? Did he have nightmares? Had he been consuming enough water? The scribe had then said something about post-traumatic stress disorder, but the paladin had barely paid attention at that point. She had recommended a strict routine in order to observe him, but to her great frustration, he had refused; Danse had insisted that he was fine and that all he needed was a bit of time to recuperate.

Lost in thought, he almost walked right by Jasper’s empty bed. Danse stopped in his tracks and stared at the makeshift nest; the sleeping bag was zipped and meticulously arranged, looking untouched. His heart sank as disappointment crept through him, blood gushing in time with a jolt of pain caused by his headache. _‘I guess she didn’t want to be here after all,’_ he thought to himself, disheartened, as he resumed his trek to the sink.

Once his face was rinsed off and his flight suit was properly secured around his shoulders, the paladin looked into the mirror and saw his tired, scruffy face staring back at him. His light brown eyes seemed dull, almost perfectly replicating the fatigue he felt.

Shoulders slumped, he made his way to the foyer all while looking at his feet, trying to figure out what to do with his time now that Jasper was gone. Maybe he could work on rewiring his helm; the HUD still needed to be repaired, and he didn’t want to wait until the Prydwen showed up to –

“Morning.”

He snapped his head up in surprise to see Jasper sitting at the table, an empty granola wrapper in front of her. Although he felt glad she had stayed in the compound, he couldn’t help but feel a tad irritated at her. He felt silly for having opened up so much to her last night. The paladin’s cheeks reddened, reminded briefly of the intimate moment they’d shared the night before.

 “Morning,” he replied, voice thankfully steady.

“You look surprised to see me,” she stated before raising her brows at him; she sounded about as enthusiastic as he felt. She had sunk her body into the old chair, arms crossed against her abdomen. She looked like she hadn’t slept a wink, her hair disheveled and eyes hollow.

His seemingly constant bad mood was starting to get on his nerves.  

Danse nodded once at her words before gathering himself, posture rigid.

“I thought you’d left.” Jasper looked at him, expression unreadable. “Your bed looked untouched and your rucksack wasn’t there,” he explained, walking around the reception counter to grab a quick meal from their stores. He made a face at the bland ration he held; food was food though, and he was going to need it if he was going to be training someone.

Jasper said nothing, observing him from where she sat. Her hair was loose, Danse noticed; it tumbled down her shoulders and past her clavicle in lazy waves, the deep red clashing with the blue of her suit.

“I thought about what you said,” she said after a moment, straightening her posture. She blew a strand of hair off her face before looking down at her clasped hands. “You’re right about not everyone liking me. It shouldn’t matter.”

Danse made his way to the table and sat down heavily, peeling off the brown paper from the ration pack. He took out the silver package of an energy bar and unwrapped it, glancing up at her. “So you’re staying,” he affirmed, taking a bite out of the food, grimacing against the strong, artificial taste of whatever a ‘strawberry’ was.

“Yes, sir.”

He nodded again, swallowing his mouthful. He would definitely need to chase this thing down with some water. 

“Good. Training is in half an hour then,” he ordered, expression hard. Jasper scowled at him, but he didn’t care – if she was staying, he’d stick with his regimen. There were no breaks in the Brotherhood. “No arguments. I expect you to show me your best, soldier.”

Jasper stared at him disbelievingly before standing abruptly, storming out of the lobby. Haylen and Rhys milled about aimlessly around the station throughout their conversation, avoiding the vault dweller as much as they could; Danse, grumpy from his rude awakening, ended up barking orders at them to give them something to do rather than be nosy. He finished his meal in silence and left the station to wait for Jasper.

Jasper’s mood had not improved from last night, it seemed. She complained during their warm-up, and once the time came to actually run, she was sluggish and refused to put any effort into the routine. Her running was borderline pathetic; it took her twice as long to finish the mile within the time limit he had set, and when confronted, offered no valid excuse. He made her run it again with the same result, and once more until he finally lost patience.

“Are you trying to piss me off?” he snapped, clicking the stopwatch a little harder than necessary. She glared at him but said nothing, doubled over, trying to catch her breath. He shoved the stopwatch in one of his pockets and crossed his arms, staring down at her sternly. “If I’m going to be putting time and effort into your training, the _least_ you could do is try. You can do better than this.”

“I _am_ trying,” she managed between breaths, scowling. Jasper straightened, gave her legs a stretch and winced. “It just hurts.”

“And it’s going to for a while. It won’t get any better if you don’t put some _effort_ ,” he scolded. He pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing. “Never mind the running for today. Meet me at the shooting range in ten. I’m getting my power armour.” He motioned to their decrepit shooting range impatiently. They would have to replace the barrels soon; _Righteous Authority_ did quite a number to the ancient metal, and luckily there was enough rubble around to supply them with ample replacements.

Danse returned a few minutes later, fully armoured with a spare rifle. Jasper was standing at the prescribed distance from the makeshift targets, waiting for the paladin. Without much more than a stiff nod, Jasper held up _Righteous Authority_ and got to work.

This exercise proved just as fruitless as the last. Frustrated, sweaty and exasperated all to Hell, Danse swore loudly and stepped away from Jasper, having corrected her stance for what felt like the millionth time that morning. He backed away and ran a hand through his hair, letting out a puff of air. Jasper closed her eyes and let her arms drop to her sides, _Righteous Authority_ smacking against her leg.

“I’m sorry,” she muttered. Danse shook his head and exhaled slowly in an effort to calm himself.

“You showed progress yesterday,” he said through gritted teeth. “You’re regressing at an alarming pace. What is going on? Why are you so distracted?”

Jasper narrowed her eyes as her grip tightened on the rifle. “Oh, I don’t know, Danse,” she began sarcastically, throwing her free hand in the air. Danse shot her a look when her voice began to rise. “Maybe it’s because I’ve been given a god damn _laser rifle_ , something I didn’t even know _existed_ until a few weeks ago? Or – stay with me here – maybe it’s because I’ve had my home ripped away from me and shoved into this world without any idea whatsoever about how to piece it back together?”

Danse was taken aback. He frowned in confusion before letting his arms fall lazily to his sides, his armour creaking. “How could you not know they exist?” he asked impatiently. “They’re everywhere in the Commonwealth.” She sighed in frustration, closing her eyes before giving him a look of frustration.

She placed her free hand on her hip, staring at him challengingly. “That’s _seriously_ the only thing you’ve gathered from this?”

“It’s the only thing I understood,” he replied simply, frowning in confusion.

Jasper blinked at him as her defensive stance melted into one of defeat. “I think it’s time I talk to you,” she said, a drawn expression on her face.

The paladin had half a mind to say no and continue the training, but the look she gave him made him curious. A long sigh slipped out before he nodded, walking towards the same wall Haylen had used as a seat the day before.

Jasper hurried ahead and sat atop the bricks, readjusting so she was comfortable. Danse, not wanting to deal with the challenge of sitting in power armour, simply stood and waited, warily eyeing the initiate.

“I’m listening,” he said as patiently as he could. She nodded almost imperceptibly.

“I’m going to start by warning you,” the initiate began, setting _Righteous Authority_ down next to her. She lowered her eyes, avoiding his officious gaze. Danse raised a brow. “This whole story is crazy. It would be completely unbelievable if I wasn’t living it, but you need to hear it if you want to understand.” She raised her eyes to his, a pained expression on her face. When the paladin didn’t respond, Jasper sighed.

“You know I come from a vault at this point,” she continued, toying with the worn cuffs of her leather armour. “I mean, I wear the Vault suit all the time. My vault, Vault 111, was a… Was a cryogenic facility.” She swallowed and looked away. The paladin’s frown returned but he didn’t interrupt her. “I was… Frozen. For over two-hundred years.”

Danse blinked. He turned to frown at her, disbelief twisting his face into a skeptical look. _She_ is _insane,_ he thought. He had many questions, but he thought it might be best to let her speak before trying to talk to her.

“You don’t have anything to say?” she asked softly, wincing when she noticed his expression.

“I will reserve my judgment until you are done,” he answered carefully. Giving him a look, she resumed her tale, her words matter-of-fact while her eyes seemed distant.

“We were supposed to go to the park, have a picnic… It was supposed to be a perfect morning.” She smiled sadly, the expression brief as her face darkened. “When the warning was broadcast on the TV, the sirens were already echoing in the distance.”

“The fear is indescribable,” the woman said with a visible shudder. Jasper squeezed her eyes shut momentarily, fighting to steady her breathing as she relived the memories. “Nate, my husband, grabbed my baby boy, Shaun, and we ran towards the Vault. We got in, but so many of our neighbours never made it. We got to the elevator and…”

Her voice trailed off; she took a shaky breath and looked up at him, eyes wide. Danse’s chest constricted when he saw the tears pooling there. _She isn’t lying,_ he realized with horror.

“The bomb dropped just as we were lowered. I saw it hit, Danse,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I felt the shockwave brush the top of my head.” Her eyes were distant, terrified. He felt terrible for her. She stared off into the distance; the paladin, unsure what to say, simply placed an armoured hand on her shoulder.

“That’s terrible,” he muttered. She blinked and looked back up at him, this time with anger. Jasper shrugged off his hand and hugged her body. The woman shook her head, looking like she’d swallowed something nasty.

“That’s not it,” she hissed, tears cutting through the dust on her cheeks. “They tricked us into thinking we were getting into decontamination pods. They told us, ‘Get in! Everything’s fine!’ So, of course, we listened. Nate was holding Shaun and while he was still telling me he loved me, they closed the hatches.” A pause, a breath. “I was smiling. We’d made it, right? We avoided total atomic annihilation, right?” She laughed bitterly. “The computer counted down and… I froze. _We_ froze. It felt like a really deep sleep.”

Danse looked down at the initiate, angry at the arrogance displayed by Vault-Tec. He wanted very much to tell her of the atrocities the corporation had committed but decided against it.

 Jasper swallowed against the lump in her throat, focusing her gaze on a particular boulder across the road from them, thinking.

“This is where it gets really weird,” she resumed after a beat. The woman looked up at him. “I woke up from suspension. I remember seeing two people: a tall, bald man with a woman dressed from head to toe in a while hazmat suit. Looked like the type you’d see in a lab or something.” A frown. “They had disabled the array, thawed us all out. I watched them from my pod as they opened up my husband’s. Shaun’s tiny little cries filled the empty vault.”

“I think my heart shattered then,” she continued, voice thick with emotion. Jasper looked down at her lap, a few more tears dripping off the tip of her nose. The droplets left trails in the dust on her hands as they landed, her knuckles white from squeezing them together.

“My pod stayed closed, though,” she pressed on, her voice thick with emotion. “They talked about ‘the subject’ or whatever. I didn’t really pay attention after they opened it up. I was busy trying to bust my way out of my pod.” She paused here, squeezing her eyes to rid them of the last few tears.

The paladin watched her expressions change from pain to anger as she pressed the heel of her hands to her eyes in an effort to stem the tears.

“I watched as they wrenched my baby from his dad’s arms,” she nearly mumbled, stumbling over her words. “Nate yelled at them to leave his boy with him. The bald man, Kellogg, threatened Nate, told him to shut up. My husband didn’t listen, though,” she added, voice hard. “Kellogg shot him.” Jasper choked back a sob, whimpering into her hand as she finished. “Killed him instantly with a bullet to the head.”

Danse’s stomach clenched with the emotion in her voice. He sympathized heavily with the woman, but he was at a complete loss as to how to let her know. He thought a moment before speaking.

“I’m… Sorry,” he said lamely, feeling useless. Jasper shook her head and refocused her gaze on the horizon, eyes sweeping over the treetops.

She gave a small hiccup, trying to suppress another sob. “It wasn’t you that shoved us into those pods,” Jasper muttered. “It wasn’t you that tore my family apart.”

“I’m still sorry it happened,” Danse said, standing awkwardly. Sitting in power armour was incredibly uncomfortable, and he was starting to feel it in his cramping thighs. “I don’t exactly know how losing a son or husband feels, but I’ve lost people I respected, people I loved. I’m offering you my condolences, Jasper.”

She bowed her head then; the paladin made to touch her shoulder again, but the woman slipped down from the wall and stood next to him instead, straightening her posture. She picked up _Righteous Authority_ with a final sniffle and gripped it, staring down at it for a few seconds before glancing back up at the paladin.

“I think I can concentrate a little better now,” she said with a grim smile. Danse gave a quick nod before waving a hand towards the barrels.

“Whenever you’re ready,” he said patiently.

Practice went extremely well after their talk. _I suppose she needed to clear her mind_ , thought Danse as he watched her assume the stance he’d painstakingly attempted to teach her the past few days. He watched with mounting pride as she let off a few shots in quick succession, all of which hit their target square in the center.

“Outstanding,” Danse praised loudly over the echo of the rifle. She grinned ecstatically and turned towards him, bouncing in triumph.

“That’s, what, five bursts in a row without corrections?” she said, exalted. The paladin gave a small chuckle at her excitement.

“Yes, but don’t get too cocky, soldier,” he chided gently. “You know that I’m going to expect this level of performance from now on, right?”

Her smile faltered momentarily before she gave him a mischievous look, smirking. “Oh, I promise to _always_ give my best from now on, sir,” she purred, bringing her rifle up to blow on the warm tip of the barrel.

Danse felt his cheeks redden as he scowled down at her. Her laugh followed him as he turned around to face the blackened barrel she had been shooting. He turned his gaze skyward as he gathered the patience to deal with the woman and the casual liberties she took in conversation.

“Oh come on, Danse,” she teased; her smile slowly faded as he remained silent, Danse’s expression impassable. She cast him a sideways look, waiting for him to say something. She rolled her eyes when he stayed quiet, giving an exasperated sniff. “Alright, fine. I’m sorry. I was joking.” She paused, then smiled sheepishly. “Well, half joking. I _do_ promise to keep working hard.”

“Good,” he said stoically. The paladin turned toward the police station, casting a quick look around them for any signs of hostiles to distract him from his thoughts.

Since Jasper had confided her story in him, his mind had been in overdrive. As much as he had scolded her, he was the one who had been distracted while she was practicing her shooting. The woman that had fought with him, was walking with him right now, had lost so much; yet, despite everything, she was still standing, still fighting. Still searching for a boy that might not even exist anymore.

He silently marveled at her. As he had watched her destroy the barrel more and more with every precise shot, he thought about the man that had shot her husband. Kellogg, she had called him. Danse frowned deeply as he remembered the name.

“Cohen?”

“Hmm?”

“How do you know Kellogg’s name?” he asked, frowning down at her as they started their walk to the station. Her face hardened at the mention of the man. She looked straight ahead towards the station with a huff.

“I know him because I’ve killed him,” she replied, her voice low. Danse stopped in his tracks and stared down at her.

“You _killed_ him?” he asked in alarm.

“Yes,” she confirmed, nodding. “After I got out of the vault, I enlisted the help of a detective in Diamond City. He helped me figure out who Kellogg was. Turns out he was a heavy for an organization called the Institute.” The paladin gaped at her. _She knows of the Institute?_ “Thanks to this detective, I found out that my son is alive, but isn’t a baby anymore. He’s more around ten years old, and at the Institute, wherever that is.” She looked sad as she spoke, resuming a slow pace toward the compound. _That explains the continued search._

“Once I found Kellogg, I tried getting information from him,” she continued. “Things… Things went south, and I killed him.” She exhaled softly, breath mingling with the wind that had picked up during training. The sky had darkened, and the looming grey clouds threatening them with a thunderstorm. Loose waves of hair fluttered around her face as she looked up, the grey of the sky dulling the gold of her irises.

“How do you feel about it all?” he questioned. She lowered her gaze and tucked her hair behind an ear, pensive.

“I kind of regret it,” she said carefully, “But I wouldn’t hesitate to do it again. Does that make sense?” Jasper looked up at him. The paladin couldn’t quite make out what her expression was, but he nodded nonetheless.

“Yes,” he sighed, not quite meeting her eyes. He understood more than she knew.

Unsure of what else to say, Danse merely followed behind her as she resumed the walk to the station, trying to process all this information. It seemed that every time he got a beat on her, she threw something else at him, a new curveball to catch.

A low, distant rumble resounded across the wastes. The storm was closer than he had projected; they would need to hurry before they got caught in the downpour. The last thing he needed was rusted power armour.

Danse clunked along up the hill leading to the police station, Jasper in tow. The rumbling was getting louder; as they made it to the barricade surrounding the station, Jasper stopped and smacked his arm, hissing against the pain of bone hitting steel. He turned to express his irritation when he noticed she wasn’t looking up at him, but rather at the sky behind him.

“What the hell is _that_?” Jasper squeaked, horrified. He looked down at her in mild surprise before following her wide-eyed gaze upward.

A furious rush of relief hit him as he saw her: the Prydwen. She was their flagship, equipped with enough munitions and supplies to run an entire Brotherhood outpost. She had been their biggest recent project back in the Capital Wasteland, and now here she was in all her glory.

The rumbling of the ship’s engines was becoming deafening as the Prydwen’s shadow coasted over the foothills. The vertibirds escorting her were loud, too, almost masking the voice that boomed through the loudspeakers.

 _“People of the Commonwealth,”_ it echoed. _“Do not interfere. Our intentions are peaceful. We are the Brotherhood of Steel.”_

Danse whooped in excitement and, were he not in a damaged suit of power armour, he would have jumped. He smiled widely, one of the rare, true smiles he had been able to express since their arrival in the Commonwealth. He looked down at Jasper and saw her expression of pure confusion as she glanced from him to the looming mass of steel. She was slack jawed, staring up at the airship.

“Is that _ours?_ ” the initiate asked, aghast.

Danse smiled again, looking up to the sky.

“Welcome to the Brotherhood.”


	8. The Alexander

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know if anyone's caught on yet, but all my chapters are named after whiskey-based cocktails and mixed drinks, hence the odd name to this chapter. If anyone wants the recipe to any of them, feel free to let me know!
> 
> Shoutout to my fiance for semi-willingly beta-ing this chapter for me.

The days following the arrival of the Prydwen had been nothing short of hectic. Once the airship had docked at the ruins of the Boston Airport, the voice of Lancer-Captain Kells had crackled through on their radio. The pilot had let them know that their transmissions had come through to the Citadel loud and clear and that they were now ready to move out to meet Paladin Danse and his squad. Vertibirds had been dispatched to the Cambridge Police Station carrying supplies, ammunition and, most importantly, manpower.

Scribes, knights, and a few paladins had hopped off the aircrafts, their power armour suits glinting in the daylight. The clean, pressed look of the others’ uniforms stood out like sore thumbs in the dust of the Commonwealth. Danse had recognized almost no one, most of them new faces from the Citadel; the ones he did recognize, usually veterans, had greeted him and his team with enthusiasm.

Some had expressed concern over how many people were left of Recon Squad Gladius; others were simply glad that there were any survivors at all. Many handshakes and shoulder claps were exchanged, hearty praise coming with most of them.  Some even brought up Paladin Brandis’ team; a paladin had surreptitiously let Danse know that there had been rumours about the fate of Gladius, that most had whispered about them all being dead after their communications had gone down.

After offering quick reassurance to his brother in arms, Danse had gone about his duties, assigning tasks to the lower-ranked soldiers and making sure that everyone knew where to store the supply crates. Jasper had followed him closely, observing quietly. She spoke only when she was directly addressed, usually by a curious scribe inquiring about her vault suit and meager protection.

The woman handled herself well, the paladin had noted; she was polite and concise with her answers, and wasn’t afraid to offer help where it was needed to the delight of the few Brotherhood aspirants that had tagged along. He was proud of her and the discipline she showed, and told her so before heading to bed on the second day of work.

Now, after a short vertibird flight to the airport ruins, the lancer docked the aircraft onto the Prydwen’s main walkway, the engines cutting with a shudder. Shaken and a little nauseous from the flight, Jasper stepped off the vertibird, Danse right behind her. Haylen and Rhys followed the duo, having been summoned back to the Prydwen along with the paladin for a direct meeting with the Elder.

“Ugh,” the initiate mumbled, rubbing her stomach. She looked uncomfortable. “I never flew well, even in actual commercial airplanes.”

“Get used to it, princess,” said Rhys from behind them. The knight had come to terms with Jasper’s presence over the past few days, begrudgingly admitting this to his commanding officer during one of the busier times at the station. “This ship’s not landing anytime soon.”

“I just want to be on solid ground for a little,” Jasper replied, holding back a small burp. She looked green in the red glow of the deck’s lights. “Maybe lay down on an actual mattress.”

“I can’t wait to take a shower,” enthused Haylen, smiling at the initiate. “Warm water, actual soap… It’ll be like a dream.”

Danse tuned out the idle chatter, focused on the command deck’s main door. He led the way up the stairs and greeted the knight posted there with a nod.

“Welcome back, Paladin,” the woman said, nodding back. “If I wasn’t holding this thing, I’d salute you properly.” The knight held up the minigun in her armoured hands for emphasis.

“Don’t worry, soldier,” he said politely. “I’m just glad you’re doing your duty. Come on, inside,” he added as he opened the heavy steel door, turning to the still chatting women behind him. Rhys pushed past them and stepped in the somewhat dark room beyond. Haylen and Jasper went next, the paladin following suit.

The interior of the Prydwen was pleasantly cool. Danse took a small breath; the hum of the engines, the soft murmur of voices, the clunk of footsteps on the metal floors… It all felt like _home_.

Jasper was looking around her, wonder etched on her face. Danse suppressed a smile as he watched her, remembering the first time he’d set foot on the Prydwen. Construction had just barely been completed when he was allowed in with a few other select officers, following their Elder as the younger man had explained the importance of the airship. The paladin had admittedly not paid attention to the speech as much as he should, more interested by the mechanics behind it all.

The sound of unfamiliar footsteps forced him back to the present moment. The paladin acknowledged the scribe coming towards him with a salute.

“Good afternoon, paladin,” the short man said, returning the gesture. The scribe looked down at his papers and cleared his throat. “I’ve been instructed to tell you that as soon as you and your team have been settled in and cleaned up, Elder Maxson would like to meet with you all for a personal debriefing.” He motioned to Rhys and Haylen, Jasper looking slightly awkward standing next to the scribe.

“Roger that,” he said sharply. “What about my new recruit?”

“She is to be given a tour of the Prydwen. She will be shown to her cot and left to clean up as well.” The small scribe turned to the initiate, having to look up at the tall redhead. Jasper stepped forward, imitating the salute she’d learned over the past few days. “If you’ll follow me, I’ll show you to the living quarters first,” he told her, all business.

“Lead the way,” the woman replied nervously. She glanced at Danse and gave him a small smile as she walked by, the scribe leading her at a brisk pace. The paladin watched her walk away with a sigh.

“She’ll be fine, Paladin,” said Haylen from behind him.

“I’m not worried about her,” Danse said confidently. “She’s dealt with much worse than getting a tour of a floating warship. Let’s get moving; we don’t want to make Elder Maxson wait longer than he has to.”

Danse stepped forward and climbed the ladder to the upper decks, eager to take his power armour off and take a long, hot shower.

-oOo-

Danse took his time washing up, scrubbing parts of his body that hadn’t seen a proper wash in weeks. He stood beneath the jet of near-scalding hot water, letting it run over him to rinse off the last of the soap. His muscles relaxed under the pressure of the jet, the aches and pains that had been bothering him soothed by the warmth.

He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, closing his eyes with a soft groan. The paladin ran a hand through his thick hair one last time before pushing the knob to turn off the water. He shook his head to get rid of excess water before stepping out from behind the stall’s curtain, the cooler air of the ship sending a shudder through his naked body.

The paladin grabbed the towel hanging on a hook next to the stall’s curtain and dried himself off. A clean, folded flight suit, along with undergarments, was waiting for him on the bench; once dry, he dressed himself, taking a moment to enjoy the softness of the clean fabric before tending to his hair and beard.

Once he had groomed himself to his satisfaction, the paladin made his way up the walkways and to the main deck. Haylen and Rhys, who had both cleaned up also, were already waiting outside the Elder’s quarters, talking quietly. They quieted down when Danse walked up to them, saluting the commanding officer as he got near.

“Lookin’ good, Top,” Rhys said with a grin. “You don’t need to impress me though, I’ve seen the way you handle a rifle.” Haylen rolled her eyes next to him. The paladin raised a brow, stopping just in front of the pair.

“Thank you for the insight, knight,” Danse said, trying not to smirk. “Is the Elder busy?”

“We’re simply waiting for Maxson to finish up his meeting with Lancer-Captain Kells, sir,” the scribe answered. Danse noticed she had decided to forego her hood and cap, instead opting to pull her light red hair back into a tight ponytail.

“Affirmative,” he said, leaning against the railing that surrounded the ladder leading to the command deck.

It didn’t take long for the dark-skinned lancer to step out of the Elder’s quarters. The man obviously hadn’t been expecting an audience as he left the room, giving a very visible start at the sight of the paladin. Danse straightened himself and saluted the commander, trying not to laugh at the embarrassment clouding the man’s features.

“Paladin Danse,” he said stiffly, attempting to sneak authority back into his tone as he returned Danse’s salute. “Good to see you. And you two, as well,” he added, nodding to his team. He turned his attention back to the paladin. “Elder Maxson wanted me to go look for you three, but it seems you’re ahead of the game. He’ll be seeing you now. Be ready for lots of questions.”

“Goodie,” muttered Rhys, earning a swat from the scribe as he stepped forward and opened the door to Maxson’s quarters.

The room was a mess. The long table sitting in the middle of the area was covered in piles of documents and folders, a few holotags laying on top of specific files. The bed was unmade, and clothes were piled onto a chair set at the foot of the metal frame. Danse suppressed a sigh; as orderly and strict as Maxson was about cleanliness and organization within the Brotherhood, those values seemed to fly out the window when it came to his personal effects.

The Elder had his back to them, typing quickly on his terminal. Haylen cast a glance at the younger man before sitting at the table, taking care to avoid toppling over a precariously balanced stack of papers.

“I’ll be with you in a moment,” said Maxson distractedly. The paladin noticed that he had foregone official Brotherhood attire, wearing a simple white button-down shirt with black slacks. Danse took a seat at a chair next to Sam, Rhys sitting across from them.

Maxson’s desk chair scraped across the metal floor as the young man stood, running a hand through his hair before turning to face his audience.

Arthur Maxson had gotten a new haircut since the last time Danse had seen him, it seemed; he had traded a full head of hair for cropped sides with an artfully styled flop of hair on top of his head. The Elder had also let his beard grow in, the long, pink scar adorning his eye and cheek creating a hairless cleft across his face. With a very brief smile, Maxson pulled out the chair at the head of the table and sat, his icy blue gaze sweeping over all of them.

“Welcome back,” Arthur began, his deep rumble of a voice taking on an official tone. Danse straightened himself in the chair he sat in, giving his full attention to his commander. “It’s good to see all three of you sitting here before me, alive and relatively well.”

The paladin looked at his teammates, both of whom gave the Elder strained smiles. Danse chose to stay stoic, instead inclining his head in acknowledgement. Maxson returned the nod before reaching up to scratch his neck absentmindedly.

“I am proud of you,” Maxson continued, resuming his speech. “Despite your losses, you’ve managed to accomplish your mission.” Danse felt a pang in his chest at the mention of his deceased teammates. He shifted in his chair uncomfortably before bringing his attention back to the young man. “However, this meeting isn’t to give you accolades on a job well done. I’m sure you’ve received enough of those by now.”

The Elder looked over Team Gladius as its remaining members nodded in unison, Rhys looking particularly drained at how many people had interrupted his work.

“You have no idea,” said the paladin. He allowed himself to smile at the Elder, their leader raising a brow. “I think my arm’s going to fall off from saluting.”

Maxson’s face relaxed as he smiled at Danse’s quip, Haylen giving a soft laugh. “I’m glad to see you’ve kept your sense of humour, paladin,” the Elder said, leaning back into his chair. “Now. I have some questions regarding your sojourn in the Commonwealth. Mostly about this new recruit of yours.”

A sigh left the paladin. He had expected this, but not quite so soon. Haylen and Rhys both glanced up at their commanding officer, a pinched expression pulling at their brows. Maxson leant across the table and shuffled through a short stack of folders, pulling out a rather thin one from near the bottom of the pile. Opening the file, the Elder frowned as he read quickly over what was printed on the top page.

“Female, about 30 years of age, former vault dweller,” he read out loud, glancing up at the paladin. Danse nodded, confirming the information. Maxson lay the file out on the table, open, pages spread across the beige material of the folder. “What made you believe she is fit for the Brotherhood of Steel after only knowing her for such a short while?”

“Have I ever been wrong about recruits before, sir?” Danse asked, holding Arthur’s gaze.

“This isn’t about you being right or wrong, Paladin. It’s about the credibility of this recruit.”

The Elder’s gaze intensified as he spoke. Danse got the feeling his mind was being read from the way the young man’s eyes bored into his; uncomfortable, the paladin looked over at his teammates. The knight was staring at the file laid out in front of the Elder, curiosity pinching his brow; Haylen, who had been rather stoic and quiet, bit her lower lip, looking from one man to the other, alert.

“I’m not sure this discussion should take place in front of my teammates,” said Danse, giving the Elder a pointed look. He didn’t feel like discussing his initiate’s private information in front of the others, especially Rhys. The woman’s story wasn’t something he wanted made public.

Maxson thought for a moment before nodding. “Very well. You two,” the Elder said, turning to the scribe and knight. “I simply wanted to congratulate you on a job well done. Scribe, your efforts in scouting the Commonwealth are exemplary, and have been extremely insightful.” Haylen blushed and mumbled a thank you before saluting the Elder and rising from her seat. “Knight Rhys, your combat skills permitted you and your team to make it this far. Both of you deserve rest. I’ll send a scribe to you when I am ready to dispatch you to your next assignments. Dismissed.”

“Yes, sir. Ad Victoriam,” the knight stated, pride lighting up his usually surly face. He saluted both commanding officers and led the way back out of the Elder’s private quarters, Haylen following him closely. Danse waited until the door was closed before he turned to face Arthur.

The younger man was again reading the file; silence seemed to stretch long between them before the Elder looked back up, skeptical.

“Is all that’s been written here true?” Maxson asked.

Danse forced himself not to smile. “Yes.”

“She’s actually over two-hundred years old? And she’s looking for a ten year-old boy that’s been kidnapped by the Institute?”

“Yes, and yes.”

The paladin couldn’t hold back his laughter at the Elder’s expression; he looked utterly bewildered, his eyes wide and mouth slightly open.

“This isn’t funny,” snapped Maxson. “It would make her pre-war, Paladin. I believe Vault-Tec’s… ‘Experiments’, for lack of a better term, were barbaric, but this… This seems far-fetched.”

“Is it?” Danse asked, finally dropping the rigid posture he had assumed. In a private setting, the Elder was lax with formalities, and after having to be nothing but disciplined for the past four months, the paladin was glad at the chance for relaxation. “With all the atrocities we’ve witnessed at the hands of Vaut-Tec over the years, I don’t think a cryo-facility is that much of a stretch.”

When Maxson’s expression did not change, the paladin leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “Arthur, this woman has displayed remarkable potential in the short while that I’ve known her,” the paladin began. “She didn’t hesitate to help us out of a very tight spot with a large horde of ferals. She helped me get the transmitter that allowed us to communicate. In the few days that I’ve been training her, she’s made noticeable progress.”

Arthur’s face had become impassable as he listened to his paladin intently. Danse, encouraged by his lack of interruption, continued. “She also shares a common goal with the Brotherhood: infiltrate and dismantle the Institute, maybe even destroy it.”

The Elder was frowning now, chewing the inside of his cheek. Danse knew this look; he was thinking, judging the paladin’s words, weighing his options. The paladin had to suppress a smirk to avoid showing his triumph; he had him in his grasp.

“Why would we turn down someone that wants the same thing we do?” The paladin finished his speech confidently. Barely hidden relief coursed through him as the Elder heaved a sigh, his eyes hard.

“Fine,” the younger man conceded rigidly. “Should she fail, step a single toe out of line, fail her training or do anything to disgrace the Brotherhood, it’s on you, Paladin.” Maxson gave Danse a pointed look to emphasize his words. “I’m assigning her to you. You will work as a team; you will work together on assigned missions. You are responsible for her training and behaviour, so don’t disappoint me.”

“You have my word, Arthur,” Danse assured the Elder, leaning back into his chair. “Was there anything else you needed from me?”

“Not at the moment,” Arthur said, rising from his seat. “I’m giving you the same amount of respite as Knight Rhys and Scribe Haylen. You are free to rest and do as you please. I want you to bring your initiate to my official address tonight; I’d like to meet her. Dismissed, paladin.”

“Yes, sir. Ad Victoriam.”

Danse rose and stretched, giving his friend a salute before leaving the room. The door closed behind him with a heavy _clunk_ as he stepped out of the Elder’s quarters and back out into the hallway.

A soldier was standing near the ladder to the command deck, their orange flight suit bright in the otherwise grey area. The paladin gave them a pinched smile of acknowledgement before turning away, deciding whether to go to the mess hall or to go speak to Proctor Ingram about his power armour’s helm. He had barely taken a step towards the main corridor when the soldier moved towards him.

“Paladin Danse?”

Danse stopped in his tracks, frowning. _Jasper?_

He turned to face the woman and did a double-take. The initiate stood before him, outfitted in an orange uniform like his own. Her face and hair were clean, the latter pulled into a neat, tight bun at the base of her head. It was odd not seeing her in the bright blue and yellow of her Vault suit, and Danse couldn’t help but notice how well the orange of the suit complimented the gold of her eyes and red of her hair.

“Initiate Cohen,” he said, mildly surprised. Relief quickly replaced the doubt in her eyes when he acknowledged her. She stepped forward and smiled timidly, looking him up and down.

“I wasn’t sure if it was you or not,” she said softly. “It’s weird to see you so, well…”

“Clean?” he offered, raising a brow.

“I was going to say well groomed,” the woman said, smiling sheepishly. A blush crept up her cheeks and, for the first time, Danse noticed pink, discoloured splotches on her cheek. It almost looked like a stripe. It was an interesting mark; the paladin wondered if she had been born with it, and made a note to ask her at a later date.

“How did your tour go?” he asked, resuming his walk towards the mess hall. After a moment of hesitation, Jasper followed him, catching up quickly.

“It went well,” she answered. “I didn’t get to meet anyone, but I have an idea of what the ship’s layout is. The scribe that was showing me around also gave me a document to study, so whenever I’m not lost wandering the halls of the Prydwen, I’ll be busy reading the Codex.”

Danse nodded, distracted by the smell of something bubbling away on the mess hall’s cooking station. Mirelurk stew, he supposed. “That document is probably the most important thing you’ll study,” he said, looking down at her. “Our laws and regulations are there. Learning them and applying them to your daily life is extremely important.”

“I figured,” Jasper sighed, shrugging. “I’m something of an expert in law, so I’ll be fine.” She smiled up at him then, pride glinting in her eyes. “Now, what’s for food? I’m starving.”

Dinner was accompanied by idle conversation consisting mostly of Danse answering Jasper’s questions about the Brotherhood and its laws. She seemed particularly interested, and when Danse asked why, she had explained that before the bombs fell, she had been a lawyer. Between hurried spoonfuls of the bland food, Jasper had eagerly explained that her job was to learn the laws and defend those who had been accused of breaking them.

“So you would defend lawbreakers,” he repeated, raising a brow. “Why?”

“Because some of them were innocent,” the woman answered simply. “Most of them were guilty, though. I have defended the worst kind of criminals: child molesters, homicidal spouses, pretty much every kind of person out there.” She grabbed the paladin’s empty bowl and placed it in her own before getting up. “I believe in justice, Paladin. Being a lawyer was my way of doing my part.”

Left speechless, the paladin watched as she walked away and handed the dirty dishes to the mess officer with a thank you and a smile. The concept of a lawyer was very much alien to him, and he still didn’t quite understand the use of defending someone when they had clearly done wrong, but Danse respected her reasoning behind doing what she did. Standing from his own seat, he glanced at the clock hanging on the wall next to a Brotherhood flag.

“Cohen,” he called out, the initiate immediately turning to face him. “We have to go to the command deck. Elder Maxson is giving an address, and he ordered our presence there.”

“Alright,” Jasper answered, suddenly looking anxious. “Any particular reason?”

“He’d like to meet you.” Danse turned, leaving the woman with a worried expression on her face. “Don’t worry,” he reassured her as they walked towards the ladder. “He’s imposing, but not unkind. He’s curious about you.”

Jasper stayed quiet as they made their way to the command deck. Once below, they headed to a windowed hall where a dozen soldiers were already standing at attention, Maxson’s voice carrying through from the hall behind them. Danse ushered Jasper into the room and placed her at the end of one of the rows, straightening her shoulders. Thankfully, the Elder was facing the window, hands clasped behind his back.

Maxson cut an imposing silhouette against the glow of the moon. He was wearing a long leather coat with a wide collar, a black flight suit covering his legs. Jasper was doing her best not to stare, Danse observed, but was failing miserably. Once more suppressing a smile, the paladin stood aside and listened to the Elder speak.

“Brothers and Sisters,” Maxson began, voice commanding. He turned to face his addressees, posture upright. “The road behind has been long and fraught with difficulty. Each and every one of you has surpassed my expectations in facilitating our arrival in the Commonwealth. You have accomplished this amazing feat without a hint of purpose and direction, and most impressively, without question.”

The Elder paced as he spoke, stopping only to turn away and face the large windows. “Now that the ship is in position, it is time to reveal our purpose and our mission.”

The younger man lowered his gaze to the ruins of the city below; when he resumed his speech, his voice was louder, harsher in tone.

“Beneath the Commonwealth there is a cancer,” he continued, resuming his pacing. He swept his hand in a low arch, motioning downward. “A cancer known as the Institute. A malignant growth that needs to be cut before it infects the surface. They are experimenting with dangerous technologies that could prove to be the world’s undoing for the second time in recent history.”

Some of the officers shifted uncomfortably, looking apprehensive. Danse glanced over at Jasper; she was still standing rigidly, her hands behind her back, watching Maxson with a sort of fascinated wonder. The paladin felt pride at her display of discipline despite the thousand questions he knew were burning in her throat.

“The Institute scientists have created a weapon that transcends the destructive nature of the atom bomb,” said the Elder. “They call their creation the synth: a robotic abomination of technology that is free-thinking and masquerades as a human being.” Maxson looked disgusted as he spoke, clenching his hands; the leather of his fingerless gloves cracked ominously, his eyes ablaze with disdain.

“The notion that a machine could be granted free-will is not only offensive, but incredibly dangerous,” Maxson continued. “Much like the atom, if its potential isn’t harnessed properly, it has the potential of rendering us extinct as a species. I am not prepared to let the Institute continue this line of experimentation.”

“Therefore,” the Elder boomed, his voice impassioned, “The Institute and their synths are considered enemies of the Brotherhood of Steel, and should be dealt with swiftly and mercilessly. This campaign will be costly, and many lives will be lost. But in the end, we will be saving humankind from its worst enemy: itself. Ad Victoriam!”

Elder Maxson saluted his officers; a chorus of the Brotherhood’s words followed, loud and proud. Jasper refrained from speaking or saluting, earning a frown from the paladin. The rows of officers disbanded, some greeting Danse as they walked by on their way back to their stations.

Jasper walked towards the paladin, eyeing the Elder as she made her way through the remaining bodies. Maxson watched his officers leave before turning to one of the small, round tables to take a sip of whatever was in a glass tumbler.

“He’s _young_ ,” the woman said in a loud whisper when she reached the paladin. She sounded incredulous and only looked more so when Danse snorted.

“Yes, but he is capable,” Danse replied, looking back around at the Elder. The younger man had finally spotted Jasper and was shamelessly staring at her back, frowning, eyes wide in an expression of disbelief. When he noticed Danse looking over, he coughed and stepped toward them, stoic once more.

“Initiate,” Maxson said stiffly. Jasper turned in surprise to face her Elder, having to look up at the young man. Her expression was hard, cautious. If the Elder was surprised at her looks, he didn’t show it; he did, however, cast a quick glance towards Danse before speaking, tone much softer than it had been during his address. “I care about them, you know. The people of the Commonwealth.”

Jasper’s stiff posture relaxed, heaving a sigh. “I can see that,” she said softly. “The Institute seems to be playing with fire, if what you say is true. We need to save them, keep the people safe.”

“Exactly,” the Elder said quietly. “I just hope we made it in time. I refuse to allow the mistakes of the past to be repeated.”

“Don’t worry, sir. I’m convinced of your intentions,” Jasper said, smiling at the younger man. Maxson nodded, once more glancing surreptitiously at the quiet paladin.

“Paladin Danse’s reports were quite clear regarding your feelings towards the Brotherhood,” he said, the initiate’s ears reddening. “Seeing as he’s one of my most respected field officers, you couldn’t have asked for a better recommendation. I expect exceptional things from you, Initiate Cohen.”

“I’ll do my best to meet those expectations, Elder,” Jasper said assuredly.

“Excellent.”

Maxson cleared his throat before assuming his commanding posture, serious once more. “Tomorrow, I would like you to take the time to become more familiar with the Prydwen and my staff,” he ordered. “I assume you’ve been given the Codex, so I expect you to study that, as well.”

Jasper nodded to confirm she understood the order. Looking satisfied, the Elder reached into his pocket and pulled out a silver chain, softly glowing holotags hanging from its links.

“These are yours,” the young man said, holding them out towards the woman. “They display your identification number, as well as your rank. You are to wear these at all times, save for a few select occasions. Wear them well, and do them proud.”

Jasper took the chain from the Elder’s outstretched hand, tilting her head as she examined the tags. She gave both men a look before slipping them on, the light blue standing out against the orange of her uniform.

“JS-108I,” she read, looking up at Danse with a lopsided grin. “Didn’t think I’d ever be proud to wear military tags.”

“I’m glad to see you are enjoying them,” Maxson said, smiling slightly. “You are dismissed for now, Initiate. Paladin Danse, I’d like a word with you before you turn in for the night. Ad Victoriam, Sister.”

Jasper saluted her Elder with a mumbled ‘Ad Victoriam’ before looking at Danse, hesitating only a moment before leaving the hall, staring down at her holotags. The paladin waited until she had climbed up the ladder before turning to face Arthur.

He was greeted by a scowl and a raised brow. Maxson crossed his arms over his broad chest, letting out a puff of air.

“You can’t be serious about her, Paladin.”

Danse blinked, taken aback. “Why not?”

“She looks like she stepped out of a _Picket Fences_ magazine,” the Elder said incredulously. “You never mentioned that she was overweight.”

“That can be fixed,” said Danse stubbornly, crossing his arms. “She has potential.”

“She looks like she can barely run a mile.”

“If I remember correctly, you couldn’t run half a mile when _you_ began _your_ training, Arthur.”

Maxson heaved an exasperated sigh, glaring daggers at the paladin.

“You’d better hope she does well,” the younger man said sternly, lowering his arms. “Your reputation as commanding officer rests on the performance of this woman. See to it that she does not tarnish our order’s name.”

Danse resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “That’s already underway, Elder.”

“Good. Dismissed.”

Shaking his head, the paladin left the hall and climbed the ladder. Making his way to his private quarters, Danse silently resolved to prove the Elder wrong in his convictions. As he settled into bed a few moments later, the paladin made a private promise to both Jasper and himself: he would not fail, no matter what it took.


	9. Patriot Punch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've decided to share the recipes for the cocktails in the chapter notes. Enjoy!
> 
> Patriot Punch:  
> \- 2 parts irish whiskey  
> \- 1 part brandy  
> \- 1 part cranberry juice  
> \- 2 parts champagne  
> \- ice  
> \--> Mix together and serve in a tall glass with a lemon wedge for garnish.

Crouching awkwardly behind the left leg of his power armour, Paladin Danse frowned as he jiggled a loose wire in the knee joint’s exposed hinge. The damn suit had been acting up lately, and since his stint at ArcJet, it had never really been brought back to its full functionality, even with the patient intervention of Proctor Ingram. Even Jasper had attempted to help, but seeing as she had never really maintained a suit, the paladin hadn’t seen the use of accepting her offer.

Roughly a month and a half had passed since the redheaded woman had surprised the paladin in a bloody show of strength and wild courage. For every week following their official welcome on to the Prydwen, Jasper had shown remarkable improvement in both physical work and combat skills.

In between intense training sessions pioneered by Danse and a rigorous exercise regimen, she had been sent on weekly missions by both Knight Rhys and Scribe Haylen. Rhys sent her on what the knight called “cleansing” missions: solo trips to select locations to eradicate whatever hostiles were present, an arduous task even for seasoned soldiers. Haylen, on the other hand, sent her on simpler retrieval missions, collecting data and technologies the scribe had scouted out in previous trips.

Both officers provided the paladin with detailed reports of her progress. At first, the initiate had been reckless, coming back from her missions with injuries ranging from bruising to gunshot wounds. Eventually, the tasks given to her became something she looked forward to, injuries becoming scarcer and less severe. Running, lifting weights and strength exercises got easier and, as a result, Jasper’s endurance and agility improved vastly, as well as her physical health.

Sighing exasperatedly at the armour before him, Danse stood, setting down the wire cutters on a steel table before wiping his hands on a grease-covered rag. Placing both hands on his hips, he stared at the darkened suit in disdain before deciding to give up for the day.

“Looked like you were having fun, there, Paladin,” Proctor Ingram said behind him with a chuckle. The paladin hadn’t heard her approach, which was surprising given the woman’s situation. He turned to face the older woman, scowling. She smirked down at him before swatting him lightly on the shoulder with an armoured hand, causing him to wince. “Lighten up, Danse. All good things must come to an end, even power armour. How long have you had this one, anyway?”

“Three years and a half,” he said, sighing.

“Yeah, you’re due,” the proctor said, nodding slowly. “I’ve been working on a new suit Maxson ordered, so there’s an extra one sitting in the back in Bay 6. It already has the Paladin paintjob, so it’s good to go. I’ll use this baby for parts.” She patted Danse’s now defunct suit almost affectionately, her gauntlets clanking against the metal of its pauldron.

“Thank you, Proctor. I’ll probably need adjustments before I start utilizing it in combat,” he said, pinching his lips into a sort of half-smile.

“Sure thing. Come see me when you want it done. Ad Victoriam, Paladin.”

“Ad Victoriam.”

Danse watched the proctor walk away with another sigh. Without his power armour to work on, the paladin was left with little else to do; unless he wanted to press Jasper into an early training session, he was left with nothing to do for the time being. Maybe a walk would do him good.

Turning to leave the repair bay, he nearly ran into a mass of bright blue and yellow.

“Watch where you’re going,” he hissed, stopping short. Danse looked up to see Jasper, her arms extended in front of her in an effort to try and keep their bodies apart.

His heart nearly skipped a beat when he noticed that she was not wearing her usual orange uniform, but rather her old Vault suit, the bright blue a stark contrast against the dull colour scheme of the armour bay.

The synthetic material hugged her body in ways the standard flight suits did not. The tight fabric all but clung to every inch of her, accentuating the hard muscle she’d gained over the past month or so. The soft curve of her waist and hips was thinner than it had been, and where fat had once made her thighs soft, hard muscle now moved beneath the Vault suit as she adjusted her stance. The pudge that had once hung from her stomach was now gone, a rather flat expanse in its place leading up to toned shoulders and arms.

His eyes trailed up her body, taking in the initiate’s defined curves. A jolt of something the paladin had thought long dead ran through him at the sight of her. He hadn’t really ever paid attention to her physique save for evaluation purposes, but now …

Danse suddenly wished he was in power armour; he was feeling the heat creep up his neck and cheeks, and the last thing he wanted was to have to answer awkward questions from the initiate. He forced himself to look back up at the woman’s face, decorum and desire clashing loudly in his mind.

“Sorry, Paladin,” she uttered quickly, straightening herself. She lowered her arms, wrapping one around her torso, her cheeks reddening. “I didn’t know you were going to move.”

“It’s alright,” he answered quickly, mentally giving himself a shake. _You’re better than this_ , he scolded himself before assuming a more rigid posture. “Why aren’t you wearing your flight suit, initiate?”

Jasper nodded before speaking. “That’s what I was coming to you about,” she answered. “My flight suit doesn’t fit me anymore, and I’m not sure how to get a new one.”

“It doesn’t fit you?” he asked absentmindedly, still trying to force himself to look at something else.

“It’s too big. I’ve lost a lot of body fat since I got my other one, and, well…” She smiled timidly as she motioned to her body. “I need one that fits comfortably.”

Danse purposely kept his eyes locked onto hers. “Ah,” he managed, thankful his voice didn’t betray his discomfort. “I believe we speak to the man in charge of stores for that kind of thing. He’s usually stationed in the airport, but today is inventory. I assume he’ll be with Proctor Quinlan going over last week’s numbers.”

“Perfect,” said Jasper, smiling. “So, Quinlan’s office it is, then?”

“Affirmative.”

With that, Danse let Jasper lead the way through to the proctor’s office. He tried not to let himself get distracted by the sway of Jasper’s hips as she walked.

_Decorum, Danse._

As they drew nearer to the proctor’s allocated office space, they heard Quinlan speaking heatedly.

“… _No_ idea how your numbers are so off, Gavil,” the man seethed, his voice higher pitched than usual.

“I have no idea, Proctor. If I _knew_ where my stores were going, we wouldn’t _be_ here,” came Gavil’s frustrated reply; the sound of a hand smacking a metal desk followed, accompanied by an angry growl.

Proctor Quinlan mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like a threat, the knight-sergeant replying just as nastily. Jasper stopped before walking through the office’s open door, looking at Danse inquisitively, brows raised and lips pursed. The paladin shrugged in response, stepping ahead and knocking sharply on the door’s steel frame.

The voices inside went quiet. Hurried footsteps preceded the appearance of a much frazzled Proctor Quinlan. Knight-sergeant Gavil peeked around the older man’s shoulders, a mix of frustration and surprise on his features.

“Paladin Danse,” greeted the proctor. The paladin could tell the man was speaking with forced calm.

Trying not to smile, the paladin asked, “Is this a bad time?”

“No, no, come in,” said Quinlan, pushing his heavy glasses up his rather crooked nose.

“Proctor, I don’t believe we were finished our… Discussion,” Gavil said from behind the proctor.

“Yes, we are.” The proctor turned to look at his brother-in-arms, a severe look on his lined face. “I’ll see you next week for an update. Good day.”

Visibly insulted at the abrupt and rather rude dismissal, the knight-sergeant drew himself up and marched past both paladin and initiate, staring ahead of him without so much as a glance at them. The proctor heaved a frustrated sigh as the man retreated to his desk, dropping himself heavily into his chair.

“To what do I owe this visit?” Quinlan asked, eyes flicking from Danse to Jasper.

“I need a new uniform, Proctor,” Jasper said, stepping forward. “The one I received upon arriving here no longer fits me, and I don’t think Elder Maxson would appreciate me being out of uniform for too long.”

The proctor eyed her critically before nodding. “Of course.” Quinlan opened a drawer, the desk protesting with a screech, and ruffled through some files before extracting a single sheet of paper. “Take this, fill out the proper information and take it to Proctor Teagan. Keep in mind, however, that you will have to pay for a new uniform.”

“Teagan’s in charge of outfitting us now?” Danse asked with a frown, watching as Jasper took the sheet and began filling it out.

“Indeed.” The proctor looked sour at the idea that the rather gruff and loud man in charge of weapons and armour should be given responsibility over uniforms. “Since some, erm... _Problems_ have arisen in the Logistics department, the Elder thought it best to assign the task to the proctor.”

“Problems?”

“Nothing that you should concern yourself with, Paladin. Ah, excellent,” Quinlan said, taking the paper from Jasper. The older man scribbled his signature on the bottom of the page and pushed it back towards the initiate. “That should be in order. Was there anything else?”

“Negative,” answered Jasper, taking the request form and folding it neatly. “Thank you, Proctor. Until next time.” The initiate saluted the proctor once more, Danse nodding his thanks before stepping out of the musty office.

Once Jasper was outfitted in a new uniform and she had fetched _Righteous Authority_ , the paladin led her down to the airport and into the building’s old seating area. The large area, once covered in old couches and seats, had been cleared and fashioned into an intensive training course used to train new recruits. Older soldiers, as well as seasoned ones, sometimes utilized the course to keep on top of their training; Danse had completed it a few times himself, appreciating the chance at a little extra exercise.

As Jasper and the paladin jogged up to the course, he saw that they would not be alone today; Elder Maxson, accompanied by Lancer-Captain Kells, was sitting on the low remains of a concrete wall, speaking in hushed tones.  

Jasper slowed to a brisk walk, frowning. “I wasn’t expecting an audience,” she said disdainfully. The paladin remained silent, choosing not to speak. He didn’t want to ruin her performance by revealing his plans.

“They’ll be leaving, don’t worry,” Danse reassured her as they neared the two men, slowing his pace to match hers. Jasper raised her brow, looking up at him skeptically before stopping just in front of the Elder and his companion, saluting both men before assuming her usual stance: arms behind her back, shoulders up, back straight.

“Elder Maxson, Captain Kells,” she said politely. Both Elder and Captain inclined their heads in acknowledgement.

“To what do we owe the honour?” Danse said, speaking directly to Maxson. The Elder turned to face his paladin, his face stoic.

“We were ensuring that the training yard was up to standards, Paladin,” the younger man answered. Jasper’s straight face faltered then, her brow twitching up momentarily. “Everything seems in order. Have a good training session, Initiate Cohen.”

“Thank you, sir,” the woman answered courteously. Jasper turned and jogged lightly over to the starting point of the course, waiting for the paladin’s command.

“Start warming up,” Danse commanded, his voice echoing across the yard. Jasper nodded and began her usual warmup routine. Once the paladin was sure she was immersed, he turned to face his Elder. “You are going to stay, correct?”

“Yes,” Kells confirmed, speaking in a low voice to avoid being heard. “We will observe from an out-of-sight location so as not to disturb Initiate Cohen during the evaluation. Treat this exercise as you would any other; we need to see the raw improvement without any extra showboating for higher ranking officers.”

“I’m looking forward to seeing what you’ve accomplished with her, Paladin,” added Arthur, idly adjusting a glove. His gaze wandered over to Jasper momentarily, anticipation etched on his face. “If things go well, your request will be approved. Good luck, Paladin.”

The two men made a show of leaving the area, speaking just loudly enough for their voices to carry to the obviously curious initiate. Ignoring Jasper’s inquisitive stare, he walked to her and, after waiting for her to get into starting position, ordered her to begin the course.

Watching the initiate move through the course was a thing of beauty. The woman had evolved from a soft, pre-war Vault dweller to a strong, solid soldier. She navigated the course with relative ease, climbing over walls and leaping over obstacles with something akin to grace. The woman made the course look easy, albeit faltering when it came to climbing the second barrier; she recovered quickly from her fumble, brushing off some dirt from her uniform as she resumed the exercise.

When came the time to unholster her rifle and practice her shooting, the initiate was surprised by armoured knights rushing at her from different directions, ordered there by the paladin the day before. Initially startled by the live fire coming back at her, Danse was pleased to see that Jasper took it in stride and hit each of the targets, not without dropping a few curses as she ducked behind whatever cover available to her.

The paladin observed as she took a pause to reload her weapon. She was slow, fumbling with the fusion cell; she still needed work on her reload speed, he noted. The knights were closing in on her, rifles raised, keeping formation as they quietly marched forward. Jasper waited a few seconds to collect herself with a breath before leaping out with a yell, running and shooting all at once.

The paladin waited until all the knights had been hit at least once by the initiate before calling out a cease-fire, the last echoes of _Righteous Authority_ and its counterparts dying out in the silence of the morning. For a moment, there was no other noise other than Jasper’s light panting, her golden eyes glinting alertly in the late morning sun. The knights around her lowered their weapons, some removing their protective face shields.

“At ease,” the paladin called out to the group; the soldiers, having fulfilled their duty, were waved off with a thank you, the group marching back towards the main area of the airport.

Jasper watched them leave, saying personal goodbyes to some of the men before holstering her rifle with a grin. The woman jogged over to him, eyes bright; her cheeks were flushed and she was still breathing a little heavily, but she looked exhilarated from the exercise.

“That was intense,” she blurted, swallowing against the dryness of her mouth. She smiled lopsidedly up at him before crossing her arms over her chest, tapping the toe of her boot on the ground to readjust its fit. “What’s the occasion?”

Danse smiled down at her. “Your promotion,” he said simply. Her expression changed from exhilaration to one of confusion, smile fading. “You performed very well. Great work, soldier.”

“Seconded,” came a deep voice from behind them. Jasper’s jaw slackened as she watched Maxson step over the low wall, followed by the captain. She dropped her arms to place her hand son her hips, forcing her breath to steady itself. “Well done, Initiate. Congratulations.”

“Excellent performance out there,” Kells said, stepping forward to stand next to their Elder, hand extended out to the initiate. He was smiling at Jasper, the woman still looking confused as she accepted the handshake.

“What’s all this about?” she asked impatiently, letting go of the captain’s hand and looking at the Maxson. “Congratulations for what?” A quick pause. “Sir?”

“When you first came aboard the Prydwen, I mentioned that having Paladin Danse as a recommendation was a great honour,” Maxson began. Jasper nodded, frowning. “After observing your display today, I am convinced that you’ve adapted and adhered to our standards of practice. You’ve displayed adequate discipline, and have respected our laws to a fault.” Jasper shifted on her feet, anxiously flicking her eyes toward the paladin before refocusing on the Elder.

“Therefore,” the Elder continued, unfazed at Jasper’s silence, “From this moment forward, I’m granting you the rank of knight.”

A stunned silence greeted his words. The woman’s cheeks reddened slightly; Danse knew she hated being watched while she completed her tasks and was probably seething, but shock seemed to overpower any other emotion she was feeling as she stared unapologetically at Arthur.

“Knight?” Jasper repeated, her voice soft. “Really?”

“Yes,” acquiesced Maxson. The woman broke out into a smile, confusion giving place to elation. “And, befitting your new title, we’re granting you a suit of power armour to protect you on the field of battle. Wear it proudly.”

Jasper’s mouth formed a surprised ‘o’; she looked completely unsure how to react, and in an effort to keep her decorum intact, she remained silent.

Danse couldn’t help but chuckle lightly at the woman’s bewilderment. Elder Maxson raised a brow at her, while Kells stifled a laugh, masking it with a cough. Shaken out of her stupor, Jasper quickly straightened her posture, bringing her fist to her heart in salute.

“I’ll do my best to live up to the title,” she stated, sincerity and pride clear in her voice.

“I’m sure you will, sister,” the younger man said, returning her salute with a small smile. “I’d like you to join Lancer-Captain Kells, Paladin Danse and I in the command deck’s hall after mess; we have official business to attend to make your promotion official, and I’d like to get it done as soon as possible.”

“Yes, Elder.”

Lancer-Captain Kells gave a salute to the new knight, along with a hearty congratulations before Maxson bid both knight and paladin goodbye.

Once the two men were out of sight, Jasper turned to Danse, glaring playfully at the paladin. In a poor imitation of the paladin, she stated, “ _Don’t worry, they’ll be leaving_.” The woman gave a snort. “Liar.”

“I never said they wouldn’t observe you,” he replied with forced stoicism. Jasper rolled her eyes.

“Technicalities,” she said, waving a hand dismissively. Dropping her glare, she finally allowed herself to give in to her excitement. She gave a gleeful squeak before clasping her hands together against her chest and looking up at the sky. When she looked back down at him, her eyes were bright, small crow’s feet manifesting at the corner of her eyes from the grin plastered across her face.

It was one of the few true smiles he had seen wear since meeting her. Danse felt happy for her, but mostly, he was proud: proud of the progress she’d made, proud of her strength and, possibly most of all, proud of just how much she’d dedicated herself to their cause. As her golden gaze fell onto his light brown one, Danse was reminded just how beautiful her eyes were when she wasn’t exhausted from training or a particularly hard day of work.

The short walk back to the vertibird landing pad was quiet, Jasper still processing her new position within the Brotherhood while Danse contemplated newer, more demanding challenges for training. As they walked up to the vertibird that would take them back up to the Prydwen, Danse stopped Jasper with a gentle hand to her shoulder. She stopped and looked up at him inquisitively, eyes alert.

“I wanted to congratulate you personally,” he said over the sound of the rumbling airship above. Her expression relaxed, the corners of her mouth lifting in a small smile. “You did excellently, and you deserve the title of knight. Don’t doubt yourself,” he added sternly, seeing her smile falter. “You wouldn’t have been awarded the promotion if you hadn’t worked hard and earned it. Let’s go.”

“Yes, sir,” she muttered; she gave him a look that he couldn’t quite decipher before walking up the steps to the landing pad, chewing her bottom lip. 

-oOo-

Danse stood rigidly next to Arthur, staring out the large windows of the command deck’s hall. The city below them was eerily still, which was unsettling; there were usually the echoes of gunshots exchanged between raiders and various other groups of hostiles, a constant reminder that this was, indeed, a  world at war with itself.

“We have all the necessary papers here, correct?” Arthur asked, turning to Knight-Captain Kells. The man, fully dressed in his lancer’s uniform, nodded, poring over a small pack of papers.

“Yes, sir,” Kells confirmed, straightening himself.

“Wonderful.”

Danse glanced at the small clock on one of the hall’s small, round tables before sighing, absentmindedly adjusting the cuff of his uniform. He was glad he’d taken a moment to look at himself in the mirror before coming to the hall; the paladin hadn’t quite realized how messy his hair was with the stress of Jasper’s evaluation looming over him.

The paladin turned from the window and began a slow walk around the hall, taking in the details of the room; red couches lined the walls, a small wooden table between all of them, most covered in tumblers and various bottles of spirits and wines.

A shuffling sound, a grunt and a muttered curse grabbed his attention. He looked towards the ladder and saw Jasper readjusting her uniform, an annoyed look on her face. Raising a brow, the paladin made his way to her. She looked up from dusting off her knee in surprise, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips as she tucked her bangs behind an ear.

“Ready, soldier?” Danse asked, returning he smile. Jasper nodded, smoothing down the front of her uniform before clasping her hands in front of her, lips pressed into a thin smile.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” she answered through a sigh, her brows briefly twitching up. She rocked once on the balls of her feet before stepping past Danse, giving him a look over her shoulder. “Let’s get it done, Paladin.”

The knight walked up to the Elder and captain, saluting briskly as she stood at attention. Danse followed her lead, moving to stand next to his subordinate.

“Right on time,” said Captain Kells, smiling widely. “I take it you know the proceedings that go on here?”

“Yes, sir,” she affirmed. “I studied the Codex and made sure to learn it front to back, as Elder Maxson wished.”

“Excellent. Now, here’s how it will happen… ”

Jasper listened to the captain intently, responding when appropriate and answering all questions concisely. She kept throwing furtive glances towards Danse, who would in turn nod in encouragement. He briefly thought back to his anointment ceremony; he had been with a few other men, all very capable soldiers, and was about as nervous as she looked right now.

When the time came to recite the oath, Jasper closed her eyes and seemed to collect herself before looking up at Maxson, her eyes fiery in the light of the afternoon sun. All anxiety had been replaced by a look of fierce determination that made the paladin’s stomach clench. _Her eyes will be the death of me,_ thought the paladin as he forced himself to remain professional, looking away from the woman and at his Elder.

“Now,” said Arthur, “By reciting the Oath, you will become a Knight of the Brotherhood of Steel. Do you understand?”

“I do,” she answered, straightening her posture. “I’m prepared to accept the responsibilities that the position has to offer.”

“Perfect,” said Maxson, inclining his head. “Let’s begin.”

Watching a new knight recite the Brotherhood Oath was something that not many soldiers were privy to. It was usually an intimate ceremony, much like the one happening now; no one but the Elder, the knights and their sponsoring officers were present, as well as a witness to the signing who was, in this case, Lancer-Captain Kells.

Paladin Danse hadn’t seen many in his time with the Brotherhood; save for his own about twelve years prior, he had only borne witness to one other: Knight Rhys. He had been the signing witness then, being the first to congratulate the gruff man and to welcome him to the Brotherhood.

As Arthur read the Oath aloud, Jasper responding appropriately, Danse mouthed the words silently, surprised he could still remember them at all:

_With this oath, you, Jasper Cohen, pledge your service to the Brotherhood of Steel._

_You promise to uphold the values of the Brotherhood of Steel with honor, duty and integrity._

_You will fulfil your orders for the betterment of the future._

_You will fight and die next to your fellow Brothers and Sisters with honor._

_You will collect, document and maintain technology to ensure the safety of the United States and its people._

_You promise to uphold the laws of the Brotherhood and enforce them to the best of your abilities._

_You will forever be pledged to the Brotherhood, in life and in death._

 

A deafening moment of silence resounded through the command deck before Jasper responded with a confident, “I will.”

Upon hearing those final words, Captain Kells stepped forward and handed Jasper a pen, guiding her to the official document placed on a nearby table. Danse smiled as she signed her name in one fluid motion, the lettering tight and neat. The paladin couldn’t help but feel a bit smug as Arthur looked towards him before signing the document himself, followed by Kells as witness. _I told you we could do it._

“Congratulations,” said Maxson as he saluted Jasper, the woman returning the gesture. “Your new holotags should be ready for you within the day. Welcome to the Brotherhood, Knight Cohen. We are proud to have you with us, Sister. Ad Victoriam.”

“Ad Victoriam,” repeated the knight, pride clear in her voice. She glanced over at the paladin, a terribly suppressed grin dancing on her lips. Jasper looked back toward Maxson, clearing her throat. “What are my new orders?”

“Meet me on the deck near the storage room tomorrow morning at 0900 hours sharp,” commanded Maxson. “We have a situation that needs to be taken care of ASAP, and I feel it would be the perfect opportunity to get yourself acquainted with the responsibility of being a knight. Paladin Danse will be accompanying you.”

“Roger that.”

“See you then, Knight. Dismissed.” The younger man turned to Danse, saying, “You too, Paladin. Well done, and congratulations. Have a good day.”

With that, both paladin and knight turned and left the hall, the two other men quietly conversing about the day’s events. As they walked by the knight posted by the hall’s entryway, the sentry nodded at Jasper, muttering a soft congratulations. Blushing, Jasper thanked the woman before climbing up the ladder, Danse doing the same.

Once they were well out of earshot of the Elder and back on the Prydwen’s main deck, Jasper surprised Danse by letting out a laugh. Startled, the paladin turned to face her, frowning.

“I’m sorry,” she uttered between soft giggles, pressing the back of her hand to her mouth. “I just never expected to become a soldier. I’m still a little under shock, and I laugh when I don’t know what to do with myself.” Noticing the increasingly concerned look the paladin was giving her, she sighed. “And chatty. I ramble a lot. I’m sorry.”

Danse raised his brows and let out a chuckle of his own. “It’s alright,” he reassured her. “I’m just not used to you speaking so much.”

“Sorry,” the knight muttered sheepishly, head sinking into her shoulders. With another soft laugh, Danse started towards the mess hall, waving her along.

“How about a drink to celebrate?”

“You drink?” Jasper asked, jogging to catch up with him.

“On special occasions,” he said nonchalantly. “I like wine. Yourself?”

“Whiskey.”

 _How appropriate_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I always felt that the promotion to knight was very unceremonious, so here ya go: evaluation, deception and promotions, yay! 
> 
> I wrote the Oath of Service myself, using various sources online; I couldn't find one, so I made one up. I hope you enjoyed this chapter!


	10. Death In The Afternoon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Death in the Afternoon  
> \--> 2 tbsp Absinthe  
> \--> 4 parts prosecco
> 
> Pour absinthe into a champagne glass. Fill rest of glass with prosecco. Serve.

Danse felt pleasantly warm when he woke from his first night of restful sleep in what felt like years. No nosebleeds, no headache, no nightmares… It was a wonderful change of pace, and the paladin fully appreciated it.

He stretched luxuriously, a soft groan vibrating in his throat. A quick glance at his glowing alarm clock told him he still had plenty of time before he needed to be up. _Good_ , he thought as he yawned widely, slowly sitting up. Blinking the sleep out of his eyes, the paladin reluctantly slipped out from under the covers and stood, stretching again. He shivered against the cool air of the ship as it hit his naked body; having private quarters had its perks, he decided, as he took his time fetching his underwear and uniform.

After dressing himself and grabbing his hood, tucking the apparel in one of his pockets, Danse made his way to the mess hall with a spring in his step, greeting all personnel he came across cheerily. It was still quite early, even by Brotherhood standards, and some of them stared at the paladin as he walked by, unaccustomed to him being so lively. Grabbing a cup from the counter, Danse poured himself some fresh coffee, the aroma making his mouth water.

He leaned against the counter near the Nuka-Cola machine, watching as the Prydwen slowly came to life; night shift personnel dragged their feet to their sleeping quarters while others walked in, groggily fetching food and sitting to have idle conversation with those around them.

Danse had missed waking up to the smell of coffee and food being prepped as people milled about, preparing for a day’s hard work. Not wanting to be in the way, he moved to a chair, sitting with an exhausted looking scribe. The paladin usually preferred solitude, but since Jasper had come aboard, he had discovered the simple joy of sitting quietly and simply _listening_.

The paladin sipped at his brew, quietly enjoying the morning while immersing himself in the soft hum of conversation and laughter permeating the area. People around him talked, laughed and joked, exchanging stories and anecdotes from previous missions. Hearing a scribe telling his comrade about a rather exciting trip to an old school with such enthusiasm made Danse smile behind his mug; briefly, the paladin wondered if he would be the one telling such stories after today’s mission.

The notion of a proper assignment both excited and scared him all at once. He had no idea what the Elder wanted done, but it mattered little to the man; he was just glad to be back on regular duty, and, if he was honest with himself, the prospect of a proper adrenaline rush was something Danse had sorely missed while cooped up in Cambridge.

Danse stood and went to the small metal sink outfitted in the counter and rinsed his cup with a soft sigh. A tap on his shoulder startled him back to reality and he turned, coming face-to-face with Jasper. He gave her a small smile before turning to face her, setting down his dish.

“Morning,” she said gently. She looked anxious, and was picking at the skin on her fingers. “I was looking for you near the power armour stations, but Ingram said you’d be here. I, uhm… I wanted to talk to you. Privately.” She looked up at him intently before giving him a pinched smile.

Frowning, the paladin nodded. “We can head to the maintenance bay if you’d like,” he said, wiping his hands on a tea towel. “We need to get outfitted for our mission anyway. I can help you suit up while we talk.”

“I - ” She sighed, frustration fleetingly clouding her features before she nodded. “Alright.”

Not wishing to question her reaction, Danse led her from the mess hall to the maintenance area of the main deck. Waving a hello to a tired-looking engineer, the paladin walked up to Bay 3, Jasper following behind.

Standing in front of Jasper’s suit, the paladin couldn’t help but admire the _newness_ of it. Ingram had gone all-out on this thing: the rust had been grinded away, the Brotherhood sigil was freshly stencilled on the torso, and the bright, red knight insignia had been painted on the suit’s right forearm. Apart from a few dings and deep scratches from previous use, the thing was damn near perfect.

“What a beauty,” Danse muttered as he reached out to touch it, looking over the armour in admiration. He ran a hand down the left pauldron and down the arm, leaning in closer to give a good look at the gauntlet. Jasper snorted behind him and shook her head as she walked by, walking around to the back of the suit with a look of mild amusement.

“Step back,” the knight said, her hands on the valve release. The paladin took a few steps backwards and crossed his arms as she disengaged the suit’s hydraulics with a hiss. The steel cocoon opened for her, smoothly unlatching its various compartments with metallic clicks.

Danse had expected enthusiasm, maybe a little bit of outright excitement at the prospect of stepping into and using a brand new suit of power armour, but instead, Jasper stared at the contraption in what looked like fright. She had her fists balled and her arms pressed to her sides, chewing her bottom lip, eyes darting from the legs to the torso and back down. Maybe it was intimidation?

The paladin waited for a little while before coughing, raising his brows at her. Jasper gave a start and shook her head, briefly closing her eyes before letting out a long, slow breath. Opening her eyes, she stared determinedly at the suit before stepping inside, her head poking up from the chest plate.

The knight’s face contorted into an expression of mild discomfort as the suit closed around her, effectively encasing her body in four-hundred pounds of steel and circuitry. As she adjusted herself, her face relaxed into a smile of sorts, the wariness in her eyes replaced by relief.

“Feels like you can take on the world in there, doesn’t it?” Danse said softly, looking over her as he uncrossed his arms. The power armour suited her well; she looked good under normal circumstances, but nothing compared to the power she exuded while in the suit. He looked up at her to see her nodding slowly, her smile widening by a fraction.

“I think I can see why you like yours so much,” she said, taking a slow step forward. Danse suppressed a smile as her face lit up. “Oh, this is cool. The old rust bucket I used back in Concord has _nothing_ on this thing.”

Danse remembered the story she had told him about fending off a gang of raiders for a group that called themselves the Minutemen. From what she had told him, the suit had been standing on the roof of a museum, vulnerable to both weather damage and decay from disuse; by all rights, the suit should have been beyond any use, but somehow had been able to withstand use in combat by an untrained, pre-war Vault dweller.

Sometimes, he wondered how she managed to get so lucky.

After giving her another once-over to ensure she was at ease in her suit, Danse ambled over to his own set, standing at one of the stations. His, although not as shiny as Jasper’s, was well restored and perfectly adjusted; he had spent time customizing it to his height and frame the day before in anticipation of the mission. He had made Jasper do the same, keeping an eye on her as Ingram had tweaked her suit.

Danse pulled his hood out and slipped it on, clipping it to the buckle at the base of his throat. Releasing the hatch on his suit, he stepped in and shifted around, getting into a comfortable position before letting the outfit close around him. Danse looked up and around at Jasper, who was staring at him with her head slightly tilted.

“What?” he asked, made uncomfortable by her stare.

“You look better without the hood,” she said, smiling slightly. Danse, unsure what to say, merely blinked at her. Whatever he was expecting her to say, that wasn’t it. What effect did his appearance have on _anything_? She smiled at him before turning away to grab her helm off a table.

“As long as it doesn’t distract from the mission at hand, I see no problem with wearing it,” he said stiffly, stepping around her. “Let’s move out. We have a briefing to attend.”

Jasper sighed at him before moving to leave the maintenance bay, expression hard. She tucked her helm under her arm before turning away from him.

“It’s okay to accept compliments you know,” she huffed, scowling at him over her shoulder as she walked out of the maintenance bay. Danse thought he heard her mutter something else, but chose to ignore it; he wasn’t sure where her foul attitude was coming from, but he wasn’t going to let it interfere with his work.  

The heavy smell of rain hit the paladin full force as they stepped out onto the flight deck a short walk later. Mist clung to the air, grey clouds heavy with rain hanging low in the sky; water trickled down the sides of the Prydwen, dripping down into the ocean below. Danse kept his footing as light as he could to avoid slipping; the metal boots of power armour had terrible traction on anything other than solid ground, and wet steel floors were no exception.

Maxson was standing at the very end of the walkway, watching the horizon as he leaned on the railing. He turned when Jasper, who was ahead of the paladin, approached him, her footsteps alerting the Elder.

“Right on time,” he said, pushing away from the railing to stand straight. He looked from Jasper to Danse as the older man caught up with the knight to stand in front of him. Turning his sharp gaze to the woman before him, he asked, “Ready for your first mission brief?”

Jasper nodded curtly. “Yes, sir,” she said, her voice cracking. Danse noted a touch of nervousness to her words; her face was set into a hard expression, but her eyes betrayed her fear. He really couldn’t blame her for that.

“Ready,” intoned Danse confidently.

“Let’s get right to it then, shall we?” began the Elder, clapping his hands together. “Take a look over there.” He raised a gloved hand and pointed toward a small, isolated piece of land below them, its shape blurry in the haze of the rain. “That’s Fort Strong, and it’s infested with Super Mutants. Having those aberrations of nature close enough to smell is making me sick to my stomach.”

“I remember that place,” muttered Jasper as she squinted in the Fort’s direction. The knight looked pained, then saddened; she seemed to regroup herself when Maxson gave her a look of mild disapproval at her interruption, a look of shame fleetingly crossing her features. “I apologize. Go on, Elder.”

“Hmm,” he grumbled before resuming the briefing, turning to Danse. “As I was saying, Super Mutants have taken hold of the area. To make matters worse, they’re sitting on top of a massive stockpile of Fat Man shells we could use in our campaign. Miniature nuclear payloads,” he explained when Jasper tilted her head. She looked mildly horrified at his response, eyes darting to the paladin before turning her gaze back to the younger man. “I want you to head over there, wipe out everything that moves, and secure that stockpile. Understood?”  
  
“Consider it done, Elder,” was Jasper’s immediate reply. She still looked unsure, and definitely sounded more than a little scared, but the knight seemed ready to take on the task with aplomb. The paladin knew then that his training had done some good, and, secretly, he loved it.

“Look,” Maxson said, looking directly at Jasper this time. “I realize you’re eager to take the fight to the Institute, but it’ll have to wait. The Brotherhood cannot allow those abominations to have a nuclear arsenal at their fingertips.”

“I understand, sir,” she responded, nodding.

“It’ll be a _pleasure_ to exterminate that mutant filth,” Danse said eagerly, earning a disturbed look from Jasper. He ignored her; the paladin had a personal vendetta against any and all Super Mutants, and he took great pleasure in eliminating every single one he came across. He felt no desire to discuss his reasoning behind the enthusiasm with his subordinate.

Not yet.

“I’m ready to do whatever it takes to protect us,” said Jasper, returning her gaze to her Elder.

“Perfect,” answered Maxson. “Now. We have a vertibird on standby, fully armed and ready to depart down below. Use it to carry our message to Fort Strong and wipe those dirty mutants from the face of the earth. Dismissed.”

With that, the Elder saluted them briskly, Jasper doing the same. Danse looked at the knight, adrenaline making him practically vibrate with anticipation. She responded to his enthusiasm with an aura of palpable doubt, but faced him with resolve as they marched to the vertibird that would take them down to the airport to begin their mission.

-oOo-

Jasper gave a loud screech of sorts before bringing down her sledgehammer on the last standing mutant’s head, effectively snuffing the monstrosity’s life with the echo of shattering bones and squelching brains. She stared, repulsed, as the lifeless mass slid down the wall, leaving a trail of dark blood and brain matter in its wake.

“Ugh,” she muttered, wrenching her hammer from the carcass. Blood sprayed from a severed artery, splattering the already marred steel of her chest plate. Suppressing a gag, Jasper thanked God for her helm for protecting her face. She looked up from her handiwork to see Danse staring at her, seemingly impressed.

“Good one,” he said to her, lowering his laser rifle. Jasper had brought along _Righteous Authority_ , but once they had disembarked from the vertibird and entered the stronghold itself, she found that her sledgehammer was best suited for such an intimate setting. Besides, with Paladin Danse accompanying her, she found that taking on Super Mutants without the rifle was much easier.

Smiling in response to his comment, Jasper shook her hammer in an attempt to rid it of whatever bits clung to the weapon. Danse stepped over the mutant bodies obstructing the way, disgust clear on his face.

“Look at this place,” he said, staring down at one of the bodies. He looked back at her, brows raised. “You must hate these mutants as much as I do.”

“Well, they’re not exactly pleasant beings to deal with,” she snapped. He blinked at her, momentarily surprised at her harsh tone; his face hardened into the gruff soldier she had become accustomed to, and she mentally kicked herself. She resisted to urge to roll her eyes at him and sighed. “To answer your question, I absolutely do hate them. It was almost a pleasure wiping them out.” She glared down at the bloody mess on her armour. “Almost.”

“I wish all of mankind shared your sentiment,” the paladin sighed. “These _monstrosities_ are just another example of mankind taking a blind step forward, only to wind up stumbling two steps back.”

Jasper frowned at him, intrigued by the absolute disdain and anger he spoke with. Before she could ask about it, however, the paladin continued, his expression back to the same old emotionless Danse she had come to know and… Like? Admire?

“I’ve been fighting for years trying to put a stop to _this_ madness,” he explained, motioning around them at the mutants, “And just when I thought we were getting the upper hand, along come the synths.” Another rough sigh punctuated his words. “I’ve seen firsthand what these Super Mutants do to people. Can you imagine what the _synths_ would do to us if they ever got the upper hand?”

The knight remained quiet, contemplating her commanding officer’s question; would they rip people apart like the mutants? Or would they subject them to inhumane torture? Choosing not to think aloud, Jasper merely held Danse’s gaze, waiting for him to finish.

“It would be Armageddon repeated,” he continued. “Maybe even the end of everything that we hold dear.” The paladin paused here to look at Jasper, letting out a soft puff of air. She stayed quiet once more, pressing her mouth into a thin line. His hard expression faltered for a moment; had he expected a response?

 _Too bad_ , she thought disdainfully as she held his searching stare. _Why should I offer him the benefit of my answers when he barely even listens to me?_

Her silence must have annoyed him, because Danse sighed once more, this time out of what seemed like frustration. “Look,” he said, voice gruff. “I don’t mean to bore you with my rhetoric --”

“It’s not the rhetoric that’s getting to me,” Jasper finally snapped, annoyed. She did not need some preachy speech from him right now. She scowled at him for a few seconds before turning away, ignoring his indignant glare. “Let’s just get out of here. We’re done, right?”

Silence met her words, and with a huff, she started forward. A hand on her armour’s shoulder stopped her and she turned back around, glowering.

“That was extremely disrespectful, knight,” he scolded, meeting her glare with his own. The laser rifle glare. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she responded. Annoyance was piling higher and higher, and all Jasper wanted to do was scream that at him, but she held back. She knew there was nothing to be gained by yelling at her CO; in fact, she wanted to avoid as much loss of decorum as possible, lest she want to scrape rust off the Prydwen’s exterior hull.

Again.

“Talk, soldier.”

“No.”

They stood, glaring at each other for what felt like an eternity before Jasper finally summoned the willpower to pull herself away from the paladin with a huff.

_Emotionless. Be emotionless. Like him._

The woman was determined to remain quiet, to stew in her own annoyance and bad mood, but as she walked back up the steps and out into Fort Strong’s reception hall, she felt her resolve crumble. He didn’t deserve this terrible treatment, and she knew it. He was just _so damn hard_ to talk to; most days, he said nothing more to her than whatever orders he had, and even _that_ was being generous.

Feeling awful about herself, she opened the heavy wooden doors and stepped out into the foggy morning, the quiet paladin following suit. She let him walk ahead, stewing over her thoughts as she watched him saunter away, his power armour creaking as he walked. Gathering her courage, she jogged up to him and stopped, grabbing his forearm. He turned with a flinch, taking his arm away with a scowl.

“Wait,” she murmured, her voice slightly distorted through her helm’s speaker. Frustrated, the knight reached up and yanked the damn thing off, the HUD flickering out. She gave it a baleful glare before looking up at the waiting paladin, tucking the garment under her arm. “I’m going to talk, and I want you to listen. I’m not asking as a subordinate, but as a friend.”

Danse’s expression softened for a fraction of a second before nodding. “Alright.”

“This is petty and extremely childish, but the reason I’m not talking to you is… Well, because you’re not talking to me.”

Jasper spoke quickly, fumbling with her words. _You were a lawyer once, for God’s sake,_ she scolded herself as he raised a brow at her, scrutinizing her every move. The paladin stared at her, expression unchanging. She looked away, staring down at the muddy ground.

“I feel as if you don’t care,” the knight continued. She recoiled slightly at the insulted look he threw at her. She felt stupid, standing in the cold November rain, talking to her CO like he was supposed to be some sort of friend, but she needed to let this out. “I understand that as a commanding officer, you need to bark orders, train me for whatever comes. You need to be a hardass, and I _get_ that. But after a month and a half of constantly doing things as a team, of me working my _ass_ off for a cause I barely know, you would think that we’d have some sort of relationship beyond all that.”

Her voice was growing angrier as she spoke, but she didn’t care; this stoic son of a bitch was going to hear her out, no matter what. “You didn’t even congratulate me properly after my promotion yesterday,” she almost hissed. “A glass of wine isn’t what anyone would expect from their CO as a way to say, ‘Hey, great job on becoming a soldier when you barely knew how to shoot a gun!’”

Jasper’s shoulders slumped, finally looking back up at the paladin. “I sometimes wonder if you _want_ to be my mentor anymore,” she mumbled, frowning at him.  
  
Danse’s expression was hard and stoic as ever, but she could see the conflict in his eyes. For a moment, there was no noise apart from the hushed whisper of rain hitting the ground around them. With a sigh, the paladin broke the silence, his breath coming out in a small cloud of condensation.

“I think we need to clear the air here,” he stated almost angrily. He took a calming breath before continuing, a frown pinching his brow. “I think we may have gotten off on the wrong foot when we first met, and I feel like I owe you an apology.”

Jasper simply looked at him. When he resumed, his gravelly voice was low, almost gentle. “Expecting you to embrace the standards of the Brotherhood without having a history with us was unfair, and given that you’ve adjusted so well to our beliefs in such a short period of time, I don’t think I need to push you so hard.”

He sounded genuinely sorry, but the knight couldn’t help but feel as if he were concerned about her commitment. She couldn’t have that.

“Are you worried I’m going to quit on you, Paladin?” Jasper asked after a beat.

“No,” he answered gruffly. “Given what you’ve told me, I just felt it was the right thing to do.”

“Hmm.”

“Let me try to explain,” he said, somewhat impatiently. “When I was an initiate, my sponsor was Paladin Krieg. Toughest squad leader I ever served with. He was a model soldier, embodying the values every trainee was striving to achieve: fiercely loyal, secure in his beliefs and brave to a fault.” Danse spoke with something like veneration in his voice, expression shifting from serious to morose.

“From the moment I was assigned to his squad, I was singled out,” he continued. “It felt like he was pushing me harder than the rest of the team. We fought alongside each other for _years_. We even had some seriously close calls, but he never explained to me why I was treated that way.”

Jasper processed his words; she was starting to see where this was going. “Did you ever ask him?” she asked, scrutinizing his face.

“Ask him what?”

“Why. Why he treated you that way.”

The paladin shook his head, pressing his lips together in a look of defeat. “I’d considered it, but I unfortunately never got the chance,” he answered, shrugging. “After I was promoted to Paladin and was assigned my own squad, I received word that Paladin Krieg was killed in combat at Adams Air Force Base.”

 “ … Oh,” Jasper muttered, looking down. “I’m sorry, Paladin.”

“Don’t be,” he said, voice low, sad. “Receiving the news was like getting kicked in the stomach. I’d lost brothers and sisters in combat before, but his death …” His voice trailed off into almost a mumble. Jasper’s heart ached with empathy; she wanted to comfort him in some way, but didn’t know how.

“It really got to me,” the paladin muttered, looking up into the grey sky. A droplet of water trickled down his temple and along his cheek, disappearing into his beard. He looked back down at her, eyes hard, resolute. “It’s taken me a long time to realize it, but the reason Krieg was so hard on me is the same reason I’m so hard on you. It’s because I absolutely believe in you, and I don’t want to see any of your potential go to waste.”

Jasper pressed her lips together, looking down; she felt foolish now for having snapped at Danse, for being so emotional over what was, ultimately, nothing. She had no idea of the paladin’s past, and what he had lived through; Hell, she hadn’t even taken the time to consider _why_ he would act the way he did, and she had jumped at his throat over her own insecurities.

To her, he had always been stoic, gruff Paladin Danse, the man who was a soldier through and through. She had seen it with Nate, the way he was when he came home from a lengthy deployment. His first had been the worst; he had left Boston with a spring in his step and a twinkle in his eye, a perpetual smile dancing on his lips, but had come back haunted, his smile dulled by what he’d seen and lived. Jasper had done her best to support her husband, always waiting for him with open arms and a solid shoulder to lean on. Why couldn’t she afford the paladin the same sympathy, whether she knew about his past or not?

For the first time since meeting him, Jasper took a good look at the paladin. Besides his usual hard expression and set mouth, she noticed the crease between his heavy eyebrows. A scar cut through his right brow and along the side of his eye onto his cheek. His skin was marred with sun damage, some spots darker than others; scars, small and pink, decorated his cheeks.

Jasper trailed her eyes along the bridge of his nose and zeroed in on Danse’s eyes. For a fleeting moment, Danse’s light brown irises reminded her of Nate’s darker ones; not because of the colour, but of the expression she saw there: vigilance, strength, courage.

Protection.

_Home._

Hurt tore at her heart, but she refused to give in to it. She had done enough crying the first few weeks of being freed from the Vault; there was no need for it now. Cursing her insensitivity toward the paladin, the knight gave Danse what she hoped was an apologetic look.

“I’m sorry I was so juvenile about everything,” she said softly, shaking her wet bangs out of her eyes. She really needed a haircut. “I didn’t even think about what shaped you to be the man you are, and I apologize. My thoughtlessness wasn’t warranted.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he answered distractedly. “Maybe I’m becoming more like Krieg than I realized.”

Although she knew the paladin meant what he said and had said it without humour, Jasper couldn’t help but let a small giggle escape her lips. This seemed to bring the paladin back down to Earth as he immediately cleared his throat and straightened his posture.

“Well,” he said, back to his authoritative tone, “I’ve said what I have to say, and I hope that it meant something to you.” He looked down at her sternly, but the effect was lost as a blush crept across his cheeks. “I… trust you’ll keep our conversation in confidence,” he added sheepishly. “Some of that information was of a personal nature, and I’d like to keep it that way.”

“You have my word, Paladin,” she assured him gently, a soft smile gracing her lips. “Shall we get out of this rain before we rust to the ground?”

Danse’s expression relaxed, a ghost of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Let’s move out.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More emotions. Jasper's getting somewhere with her gruff old paladin.
> 
> PS: How's this one chapter a week thing going for you guys?


	11. Stinger

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stinger
> 
> \--> 2 parts brandy  
> \--> 1 part mint liqueur  
> \--> ice cubes
> 
> Fill up the shaker with ice. Pour mint liqueur and brandy into shaker and shake well. Strain into cocktail glass.

Jasper muttered a curse under her breath as she tugged her foot out of the mud beneath her, the limb releasing with a loud squelching sound. Danse had made the decision to walk along the shores of the ocean rather than cut through the city itself, wanting to avoid as much trouble as possible; although the decision had its advantages, power armour and wet beach sand did not mix, as evidenced by the amount of times the knight had nearly tripped over her feet getting stuck. The woman had protested against it, mentioning the length of the trip, but Danse would have none of it.

“There are too many risks,” he had argued as they walked away from Fort Strong. “We don't have the ammo to take on another attack.”

Jasper couldn’t disagree with his reasoning, and had eventually agreed to take his route. She did not feel like fighting raiders, ghouls, or whatever other creature Boston had to offer; taking down a Behemoth and reducing a mutant hive to a bloody mess was enough adventure for one day. She was tired, physically exhausted, and cranky to boot, all of which made her feel generally, well, like shit.

As the looming silhouette of the Prydwen got closer and closer, hazy in the falling rain, she felt herself relax. The knight hadn’t quite realized how much she had started to regard the airship as home until she looked over at the sight of the buildings around her; dilapidated beach houses and long-closed businesses riddled the seaside, all either stripped of everything useful, or repurposed as raider nests.

Jasper remembered visiting this very shore on one of the first dates she’d had with Nate. They’d walked around for hours, splashing each other as they talked, laughing and generally just being happy. He’d taken her to a hot dog stand on the boardwalk; it was greasy, much too salty and very unhealthy, but paired with an ice-cold Nuka-Cola, it had been the best meal ever. Jasper had gotten a terrible sunburn that day, having worn nothing but a yellow sundress and ignoring her roommate’s plea for her to wear sunscreen.

Now, as she trudged through contaminated mud wearing a 400-pound metal suit of armour, she longed for the sting of something other than radiation on her skin. Something to eat other than mirelurk stew would be wonderful, too. The boardwalk was rotting away, rusted tables and parasols barely holding together against the ravages of radiation and years of disuse. Jasper sighed softly, allowing herself a moment of mourning for her old life before turning her attention back to the trek to the Prydwen.

The duo managed to avoid any confrontation and, save for a stubborn mirelurk, the walk back home was uneventful. The paladin had taken the lead at some point during the walk, and was greeted stiffly by the knight posted as sentry at the entry point to the Brotherhood’s makeshift base. Once identified, they were let through only to be greeted by an enthusiastic scribe.

“Knight Cohen! I've been waiting for you,” she exclaimed, bounding up to Jasper with the energy of a six year old. Her voice was cheerful, her eyes bright. _Oh, God._ “Do you have a moment?”

“Uh, yes,” Jasper managed, disconcerted by the sudden assault of energy. “What can I help you with, scribe?”

“Oh, nothing at all! A courier delivered this for you,” the woman said, holding out a worn envelope. It was torn in some places and stained with god knows what; glancing at Danse, who looked just as disconcerted as she felt, she took the note in her gauntleted hand, taking care not to rip it further. The scribe smiled brightly up at her. “It was delivered just after you left the ship. Great job at Fort Strong, by the way; some of us watched from here. Impressive work on the vertibird!”

“Um,” the knight said, at a loss. Where did she get all her energy? “Thank you. For the note, and for the compliments.”

“It’s my duty ma’am!”

With a salute, the younger woman scurried off, Jasper staring after her.

“Jesus Christ,” she muttered before looking down at the envelope. It was unmarked; no name, no address, no form of identification was written on it. Jasper eyed it suspiciously, glancing quickly at the paladin. He was frowning down at it, visibly intrigued.

“Any idea what it is?” Danse asked, looking up at her. When she shook her head, he made a face before shrugging. “Whatever it is, it’s none of my business. Let’s go; we need to debrief Elder Maxson on our mission, and provide a report.”

“Roger that,” Jasper said tiredly. Truth be told, she had almost forgotten about having to debrief the Elder; she would have loved nothing more than to get out of her power armour, strip down from her grimy uniform, and hop into a scalding hot shower. She could still see bits of mutant stuck to the outside of her armour, and really wasn’t looking forward to seeing what had managed to get through to her uniform.

The knight followed her CO to the command deck where Maxson was waiting for them. The younger man looked momentarily startled at their ragged appearances; Jasper was willing to bet that they looked a complete mess, too, soaked with rain and power armour crusted with sand and mirelurk guts. She was sure her face was bruised from a well-aimed blow from a mutant’s board to her head, and although her nostrils were filled with the stench of her own blood, she could imagine their odour wasn’t too pleasant.

Expressions and formalities aside, the meeting took less than half an hour. Once the Elder heard that they had completely cleared the stronghold of any super mutants and that the Fat Man shells were secure, he had dismissed the pair rather unceremoniously, but not before giving Jasper a few signal grenades and a nonchalant comment on their usefulness.

Once dismissed, both paladin and knight headed to the maintenance bay, remaining quiet for the short walk through the Prydwen. Other officers stopped and congratulated them on a job well done, Jasper growing more and more impatient with every interruption. Forcing a smile, she thanked them and moved on, grateful when they finally made it to their destination.

After she had settled herself in the provided space for her suit, she stepped out of her power armour with a relieved sigh; the heat from the fusion core at her back was really starting to get to her. Jasper shook her arms and legs, the full weight of gravity coming back almost all at once. A quick glance down at herself confirmed what she had suspected: mutant blood, thick and deep red in colour, had managed to seep through the joints of her armour, staining her elbows and collar.

Feeling absolutely repulsive, Jasper hurried out of the maintenance bay and towards the showers, the thought of hot water and soap the only thing on her mind.

-oOo-

Danse sat at the desk in his private quarters, reading over the handwritten report he’d prepared of their mission at Fort Strong. Jasper had hurried to the shower facilities without so much as a word to him; he couldn’t blame her, given the fact that she had been at the receiving end of most of the bloodshed. The paladin had lamented her choice to use her sledgehammer instead of a rifle, but after seeing the mess she reduced the mutants to, his doubts were quickly quelled and he let her proceed in the way she saw fit.

Putting down his pen, Danse leaned back in his chair and stretched, his back protesting against the solid hour of slouching over his work. _I am definitely not made for desk work,_ he thought as he disdainfully gathered the pack of papers and placed them in a folder. Letting out a slow breath, he stared at the ceiling, letting his mind wander back to the conversation they’d had before heading back to the Prydwen.

The paladin wasn’t quite sure how he felt about opening up to the knight. He was far from regretting it, but he couldn’t help the doubt that nagged at him. Remnants of a friendship long gone had kept the paladin from forming any sort of attachment beyond that of comrade to anyone surrounding him; in fact, he’d taken particular care not to make any friends since losing Cutler, much to the dismay of many of his teammates.

A loud knock interrupted his train of thought. Frowning lightly, he stood from his chair and made his way to the door, a second, more insistent set of knocks following the first.

“Coming,” he barked. He tugged open the door, scowling. “Yes?”

“Oh, good, you’re here.”

Jasper shoved past him without so much as a greeting; annoyed, the paladin stepped aside as she strode hurriedly to his bed, glaring at her indignantly as he shut the door.

“What are you _doing_?” he asked crossly, furrowing his brow at her. The knight ignored him and plunked down onto his bed, looking up at him blankly. Crossing his arms, he stared at her; what the hell was wrong with her?

“I didn’t invite you inside, knight,” he began sternly, striding towards her. “These are my private quarters, and - ”

“I found a lead regarding my son.”

Danse closed his mouth, all frustration evaporating from him at once. Her amber eyes were boring into his, bright in the fluorescent light of his quarters. The knight was bouncing her leg up and down in agitation, toying with the piece of paper in her hands.

“What?” he asked lamely, not quite sure what to do with himself. She let out an irritated growl before standing again, pacing the length of the room.

“The note from earlier,” she said almost impatiently. Understanding dawned on him as he glanced down at the slip of paper crumpled in her hand.

“Oh. What does it say?”

Jasper stopped pacing long enough to look at him, anxiety deepening the lines on her face. She held out the piece of paper to him, practically shoving it into his hands before resuming her pacing. Danse smoothed out the note and held it up to read:

_Hey doll,_

_I found a solution regarding your little ‘memory problem’. Meet me at the Memory Den in Goodneighbour._

_-N_

When he looked up from the note, more confused than before, she was staring at him expectantly, like he was supposed to know exactly who this was from and what it meant.

“Who’s ‘N’?” he asked confusedly. “What memory problem?”

“Not me personally,” she said, snatching the paper back from him. It was all he could do to keep from snapping at her; throwing his hands up in defeat, he stepped away from the knight.

“If you can’t explain yourself properly, you can leave,” he said, throwing her a glare.

“Look,” she resumed, this time definitely impatient. She pinched the bridge of her nose before looking at him with an intense look of determination, placing the fist she held the note in on her hip. “I need to get to Goodneighbour ASAP, and I want you to come with me. Tomorrow is our leisure day, right?”

“Yes,” he said slowly, frowning.

 “So we can leave right now and stay the night, right?”

“Yes, but I still don’t - ”

“Good. I’ll go talk to Maxson and ask for a vertibird drop.”

“No – we can’t just - _knight_!”

He stared after her as she practically ran out of his quarters, slamming the door. Danse closed his eyes and silently prayed for more patience before wrenching his door open to go after her, muttering a soft curse under his breath.

-oOo-

“I can’t believe you talked Maxson into letting you take a vertibird,” said Danse, watching the aircraft take off. With the dangers that Boston posed and how limited the space was surrounding Goodneighbour, the lancer had only been able to drop them off on the outskirts of the city, much to Jasper’s displeasure.

The knight shrugged, hitching her duffel bag up higher on her shoulder. “I explained my reasoning and he approved my request right away,” she said, narrowing her eyes and giving a quick look around them. She looked back up at him with a sigh. “We’re going to have to be quiet. The sun’s setting, and who knows what’s hiding behind the corners in this ruin of a city.”

With that, the knight turned and took off at a brisk pace, one hand on her duffel’s strap, the other hovering over the 10mm at her hip. Danse followed her, shuddering in the cool breeze of the evening. Jasper had insisted they not wear power armour for their trip as to not rouse suspicion from the residents of Goodneighbour when they arrived.

“I still don’t understand the decision to forego power armour,” the paladin said as he followed her, adjusting the long sleeves of a plaid flannel shirt. The jeans he was given by the knight were restrictive, the stiff dark denim hugging at his hips and thighs. He hadn’t worn civilian clothes in nearly a decade, and he felt vulnerable without the usual padding of his flight suit and heavy protection of his power armour.

Jasper was wearing almost the same kind of outfit, save for the combat boots she had kept on. Her hair, rather than being in its usual bun, was in a low ponytail, her bangs curling freely around her face. The knight had found the most inconspicuous duffel bag she could and had stuffed it with some essentials:  stimpaks, Med-X, and extra ammunition, as well as spare clothes.

“They won’t trust us if we arrive fully armoured,” she replied exasperatedly, stopping to look at him. “I’ve been there before. They really don’t take kindly to any sort of threat, and power armour is _definitely_ a threat.”

Pressing his lips together, Danse bit back his retort. _They wouldn’t feel threatened if they weren’t so insubordinate,_ he wanted to say, but the last thing they needed was another argument.

He couldn’t help but feel cynical regarding Goodneighbour, and from what he had gathered, it wasn’t really a place anyone went to without having a specific reason. Crime ran rampant throughout the Commonwealth, and Goodneighbour was the hub that those running from their mistakes seemed to flock to. Truth be told, he felt rather uncomfortable heading into such compromising territory; if it weren’t for Jasper’s need to go, he would have avoided it altogether.

With a sigh, the paladin took the lead, keeping his senses on high alert. The contrast between the slivers of bright orange sunlight cutting through the shadows of the city made seeing movement difficult. He knew from previous missions that Boston was unforgiving, and without power armour to protect either of them, an ambush would mean the end of their little outing… And of them.

Making sure to keep his footsteps light, the paladin walked along a rubble-covered road, Jasper following quietly behind. He kept his hand on the grip of his rifle, cautiously scanning his environment. It almost felt too quiet, and it made Danse uncomfortable.

Aside from the occasional creaking of ancient metal and the wind whistling through ruined buildings, there was no noise in the city. The paladin trudged along, following Jasper’s directions whenever she told him to turn somewhere or walk along a certain building.

This went on for what felt like hours until they came upon a narrow alley, a ramshackle wall blocking the way.

“Shit,” muttered Jasper from behind him, staring at the palisade with a frown. “Raiders?” She glanced up at him apprehensively, chewing on her lower lip.

“I assume so,” Danse muttered as he scanned the tops of the buildings, tugging his weapon from its holster. “There’s not enough mess for it to be a mutant hive. Is this the only way to Goodneighbour?”

Jasper hesitated before scanning her surroundings one more time. “It’s just beyond this alley, if we make it through,” she finally stated, placing her hands on her hips. She blew her bangs out of her eyes before looking at the wall again, sighing heavily. “It’s the quickest way. We’re going to have to cut through. Put your rifle away; they might be a little more forgiving if we don’t threaten them.”

“I hope you know what you’re doing, knight,” Danse said, reluctantly clipping his rifle back in its place. With one last glance at the paladin, Jasper walked up to the wall and hesitated only a moment before knocking loudly, the door quivering loosely in its frame.

Movement seemed to erupt behind the wall as voices shouted from beyond the barrier, a dishevelled looking woman standing from a platform. Her dark hair was choppily cut, her face smeared with what appeared to be blood and dirt.

“What the fuck do you want?” she snarled savagely, leaning over the wall. Jasper gave a visible start and stepped back quickly, nearly running into the paladin as she stared up at the woman. Danse’s hand twitched towards his rifle, eyes locked onto the raider.

“We’re just seeking passage through to Goodneighbour,” Jasper answered, keeping her voice level. Her body was tensed, like a cat waiting to run at any sign of movement. “We just need to get through. We don’t want any trouble.”

The woman barked a laugh and turned to look behind her, her wild eyes twinkling ominously in the light of what Danse assumed was a barrel fire. “Ya hear that, Jeb? She doesn’t want trouble!”

“Oh, God,” muttered Jasper, keeping her eyes on the raider. Laughter echoed from behind the other woman before a second raider, a man this time, joined the first to stare down at the knight.

“If you didn’t want any trouble, you shouldn’t have come here,” he said menacingly, staring at Jasper with derision. “Now what do you want?”

“We simply want to get through to Goodneighbour,” repeated Danse firmly, stepping forward to stand next to his subordinate. The raider narrowed his eyes at him, puffing out his chest.

“So you show up with your big, fancy laser rifle, and I’m supposed to believe you ain’t here for our shit?” he shouted down at the paladin, his dark eyes twitching from the paladin to Jasper. “How about you fuck off and leave me, Holly and the rest of my gang alone before we blast your fuckin’ heads off.”

It took all of Danse’s self-control not to pull out his rifle and put a shot right between the raider’s eyes. The knight seemed to sense his anger as she touched him gently on the arm, giving him a look that said, _Trust me_. Jasper gave him the tiniest of smiles before looking back up at Jeb, raising her hands to show she had no weapon.

“How about a trade?” she called out, taking her duffel bag from her shoulder and raising it up for them to see. “Our things for safe passage.” Jeb squinted down at it suspiciously before scoffing and standing back up, the woman next to him pulling out a pipe rifle and pointing it down at the knight.

“What, do you think we’re stupid?” he retorted, glaring at the bag. “Open it. Dump whatever’s in there on the ground. No funny business, or Holly’ll shoot ya, I swear to god.”

Danse clenched his jaw, hand on his rifle; glancing at the paladin, the knight slowly lowered the bag and unzipped it, its contents spilling on the rubble-covered pavement. Fusion cell cartridges rolled everywhere, stimpaks clattering to the ground; clothes tumbled in a heap, 10mm clips falling on top of the fabric with a dull thud.

“That’s it?” Jeb scoffed, Holly cackling next to him. The woman cocked her rifle, raising it to aim directly at Jasper.

 “You’re gonna have to do better than that, sweet cheeks,” she growled down at the knight, her bloodshot eyes glinting menacingly. “You’ve got a neat-looking Pip-Boy there. Give us that, and we might consider being nice.”

Danse looked over at Jasper, who in turn looked at him. She held his gaze for a fleeting moment before unclasping the device form her wrist with a loud sigh. “Alright,” she said, defeated. “My Pip-Boy, all my belongings, for safe passage. Come and get them.”

“What are you doing?” hissed the paladin, staring in horror as she tossed the Pip-Boy down with the rest of her belongings. “Are you _insane_?!”

“Shut up,” she whispered harshly, giving him a look. The knight looked back up at the raiders, both of whom were eyeing the pile of things with careful curiosity. “They’re all yours,” she called out loudly, stepping away from the offering.

“Throw your guns in there too,” Jeb yelled, frowning when he noticed that Danse had moved his hand toward his rifle. Letting slip a soft curse, the paladin unclipped the weapon and crouched, gently placing it down on the ground. Jasper did the same, tossing her pistol unceremoniously on the ground.

“There,” she said impatiently. “Everything’s down.”

With a grumble, Jeb stepped down from the platform, motioning for Holly to follow him. The woman glared at the paladin before following her partner. The door rattled once before opening, Jeb stepping through, his own pipe pistol raised.

“Don’t move a fuckin’ muscle,” he hissed as he walked to the pile in front of the knight. Danse raised his hands, unimpressed at how this was going. The raider slowly stepped up to the pile and, with one last paranoid glare at both of them, he leaned down to inspect their bounty.

Holly stood next to Jeb, not taking her eyes off the paladin; she seemed to think he was the bigger threat, keeping her rifle trained on Danse. The paladin held her gaze, jaw clenched; he was angry at both Jasper and the situation she’d gotten them in. Weaponless, armourless, and with nowhere to run, Danse had never felt more vulnerable.

“Hmph,” grumbled Jeb as he stood, looking at Jasper smugly. “I guess that’ll do. Hol, let ‘em go and pack this shit up.”

“Sure thing, boss,” Holly replied, finally lowering her weapon. She roughly snatched the duffel from Jasper’s outstretched hand and began stuffing the contents carelessly into the bag.

What happened next was a blur; Danse barely had time to register Jeb’s shout of pain before noticing that Jasper had kicked his legs out from under him. The raider crumpled to the ground, curses flying from his mouth as Holly panicked, scrambling for her rifle.

The ragged woman scarcely had time to raise her weapon before Danse was on her, wrestling her arms behind her back, gritting his teeth as she struggled against him. The rifle dropped to the ground with a clatter as she let it go, attempting to claw at his arms with vicious swipes. Danse could feel her bones jutting out from under her clothes; she smelled foul, and her clothes felt grimy from weeks of being unwashed.

“Get off me, you son of a bitch!” she screeched, voice cracking. Holly kicked behind her, her foot colliding with Danse’s knee; hissing in pain, the paladin threw the woman to the ground, planting a knee in the woman’s lower back to keep her from moving. Her face was pressed against the cold pavement, dirty hair covering most of her face.

“I won’t hesitate to break your arm if you don’t stop,” he growled at her, tightening his grip on her wrists. With a whimper, she stopped struggling, peering at Danse through her hair; the one eye he could see was bright, angry. It had a nearly psychotic gleam to it, and had this been any other situation, he would have felt afraid.

The paladin glanced up, hearing a loud crunch from in front of him. Jasper was panting, the raider clutching his nose from a well-aimed jab to the face. The knight’s already bruised face was marred with fresh blood, a gash splitting her lower lip.

“Think you can take me on, little girl?” Jeb wheezed, wiping his chin from the blood gushing from his nose. “You got no idea who you’re dealing wi-”

The knight snarled as she charged at him, teeth bared. The raider’s eyes widened as he was knocked down, falling backwards, his arms flapping wildly in an effort to regain his balance. Danse winced as they both hit the ground with a loud thud, Jasper’s knees colliding with the pavement.

“Yes I do,” she seethed through clenched teeth. She straddled him, pinning the man’s arms to the ground. The raider smiled lewdly up at her, blood-crusted lips parting to reveal yellowed teeth.

“Now isn’t this a pretty sight,” he said, voice low. “You, on top of me? I’d let that happen any day.”

“You wish.”

A scuffle ensued, Danse watching from his position on top of the struggling raider. What the Hell were they supposed to do now? He and Jasper could fight these raiders for however long they could hold out, but without weapons, they were getting nowhere. Anger mounted in him as he realized the knight had, once more, no real plan to go on, forcing him to come up with a solution.

Thinking quickly, he let go of Holly’s arms to deliver a punch to the side of her head; with a final squeak, the woman stopped moving, knocked out cold by the hit. Danse crawled off of her and grabbed the first weapon he saw, taking careful aim at Jeb’s head.

A loud shot echoed through the city as Danse pulled the trigger on Holly’s rifle; Jasper yelled as the bullet when through Jeb’s head, his skull exploding in a spray of blood and brain matter.

“What the Hell, Danse,” she shouted, standing quickly and backing away. She stared down as blood pooled beneath the raider, horrified. Her arms were covered in the man’s blood, the matter trickling down to her fingertips in small rivulets.

“It was either that, or we got stuck here,” he said blankly. He climbed off of Holly’s motionless form and stood, tossing the rifle down next to the woman. The paladin looked up at Jasper angrily, walking towards their scattered belongings. “What was your plan once you got him down?”

“To knock him out or _something_ , not outright blast head off,” she said, attempting to shake some of the blood off of her.

“And then what?” When Jasper remained silent, Danse sighed and placed his hands on his hips, looking at her disapprovingly. “You can’t keep throwing us in such compromising situations. I’ve told you a thousand times to _think_ before acting, to plan your moves out. Think tactically.”

The knight wiped some blood off her chin with the sleeve of her blouse, glaring at the paladin irritably. “I know,” she said tersely. “I’m not exactly thinking about taking down raiders right now, so forgive me if I’m not ‘tactical’ enough for your liking, Paladin.”

Danse shook his head at her before starting to pick up the rest of their things, haphazardly throwing them in the duffel bag as he went, annoyed at the knight’s attitude. The paladin understood that she was tense in the wake of finding a possible breakthrough regarding her son, but he would have thought that she’d be more tolerable towards someone who was taking the time to help her.

Once he was done gathering their luggage, Danse threw the bag over his shoulder before grabbing his rifle and slipping it into its holster, holding Jasper’s 10mm out toward the knight. Jasper took it with a sour look on her face, eyes searching the ground.

“Where’s my Pip-Boy?” she asked with a frown, looking up at Danse.

“I kept it out of sight,” the paladin answered, making his way to the now quiet alley. “It’s gotten us in trouble once already. We don’t need a repeat.”

He could feel her eyes boring angry holes in the back of his head as he kept walking. He heard her huff loudly before following him as he stepped across the threshold of the door, laser rifle drawn and at the ready. With a frown, Danse swept the area to look for any sign of movement, but from the looks of it, Jeb's 'gang' had been nothing but a desperate bluff in an attempt to scare them off. Only two ratty mattresses were laid on the floor under a shabby roof, surrounded by meager possessions; clothes, a few cans of Cram and a single toolbox were the only things surrounding the beds, empty Jet dispensers littering the ground.

“I guess you have to make do out in the wastes, huh,” Jasper said, looking at the derelict shelter sadly.

“Hmm,” Danse murmured, opening the second door. He let Jasper walk through first, scanning the area before stepping out into a dimly lit cul-de-sac. Another wall, this time made of what looked like junk. A bright blue neon sign flickered over a blue door, the tubes molded to form the word ‘Goodneighbor’.

“Oh, thank God,” Jasper groaned, jogging up to the door. She paused and waited for the paladin, watching as he cautiously approached the settlement. “I have a few things to tell you before we go in.”

“I’m listening,” he said attentively.

“First, there’s an assaultron in there. She’s not hostile,” she added hastily, seeing the wide-eyed look of horror Danse gave her. “Her name is KLE-0. Be nice to her, and she’ll be nice to you.”

“… Okay,” said the paladin warily.

“Second, there are ghouls. Lots of them. The mayor is one, too.”

“ _What_?”

Jasper closed her eyes against the disgust in his voice. Danse stared down at her, frowning deeply. “They’re not feral,” she said, rubbing her arm. “Please, be nice. The mayor, Hancock, is a bit of a nut case, but he’s generous.” She looked at him, her eyes pleading. “Please, _please_ be civilized. These people are helping me.”

Danse took a deep breath, fighting against the disgust mounting in him at the thought of ghouls being in such close proximity. In a gruff voice, he said, “I’m not making any promises. If a single … _thing_ in there shows even the _slightest_ sign of hostility, I’m shooting first, asking questions later. Is that clear?”

Jasper nodded. “Yes.”

“Good. Now let’s go before I change my mind about this whole endeavour.”

_What in the name of god have you gotten yourself into, Danse?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoiler alert: This won't end well. I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Feedback and comments are always appreciated - I love hearing about your thoguhts!!
> 
> ALSO!! Here's my SoSu for visual reference: http://thevengefulgeek.deviantart.com/art/FO4-Jasper-677930938   
> I especially enjoy the way Danse is just looking at her :')


	12. The Fitzgerald

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Fitzgerald
> 
> \--> 1 1/2 ounces gin  
> \--> 1 ounce simple syrup  
> \--> 3/4 ounces fresh lemon juice  
> \--> 2 dashes Angostura bitters  
> \--> ice  
> \--> lemon wedge (for garnish)
> 
> Combine gin, simple syrup, lemon juice, bitters and ice in cocktail shaker. Shake, then strain into cocktail glass over ice. Garnish with lemon wedge.

Danse sat next to Jasper’s memory lounger, staring at the grainy display in shell-shocked awe.

_Teleportation._

As if reading his mind, the scientist they had met earlier in the evening, a certain doctor Amari, made a sound of triumph, exclaiming, “Teleportation! It all makes sense!” The older woman glanced around at the quiet paladin, her usually pinched face lit up with a smile. “Nobody could find the entrance to the Institute because there _is_ no entrance! Ingenious!”

Shaking her head in dumbfounded amazement, she leaned back down at look at her terminal’s screen. “Let me pull you out of there, Jasper. As soon as you’re ready,” the doctor said gently, glancing at the knight’s memory lounger.

At the mention of his subordinate’s name, Danse snapped out of his bewilderment and looked down at her motionless body. He could see her eyes twitching erratically, tears seeping out from beneath her eyelids. She looked pained. His brow pinched in concern, he glanced up at Amari, who was concentrating on her terminal.

“She doesn’t seem to be doing well,” he said softly as he stood.

“She’s fine,” the doctor said distractedly, hitting a final key on the terminal. “Although I don’t believe she’s quite done.” Amari straightened and turned to look at Danse, giving him a strained smile. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must unplug Mr. Valentine and ensure he is fully functional.”

Whatever awe or worry Danse was feeling disappeared at the mention of Valentine’s name. Revulsion and anger hit Danse to such a degree that it shocked even himself momentarily. Unable to sit with the bubbling emotions rising inside of him, he averted his gaze from Jasper’s memory lounger, taking a breath to quell the emotions before staring resolutely at the wall to his right.

After the run-in with the raiders, they had rushed to the Memory Den as soon as Danse and Jasper had walked through the threshold of the neighborhood, barely giving the paladin time to orient himself. He’d hardly had the time to look at more than a few ghouls during their short walk, noticing that some looked much worse than others, but no matter the degree of malformation Danse felt the same repulsion for each and every one of them. He knew that while they looked and acted human now, their minds would eventually rot away and they would become feral. The thought of that kind of bomb waiting to explode did not sit well with him. At all.

What had shocked him the most, however, was being greeted by a dilapidated, grouchy, Noir-esque synth by the name of Nick Valentine inside the Memory Den. At first glance, Danse had thought nothing of what he had perceived to be a man: tall, wearing a trench coat and fedora with the smoke of a cigarette curling up from underneath the brim of his hat, the character had not seemed suspicious until it had looked up at Jasper’s shout of recognition.

Even now, the memory of those yellow optics locking onto their position sent a shiver down Danse’s spine, just as the thing’s rugged voice set his blood boiling from its attempt at a cheerful response to the knight’s greeting. Once he got closer, he could see even more inhuman differences to this creature:  pieces of whatever synthetic material covering the synth’s throat were gone, half of its face torn nearly to shreds; and, an entire hand was devoid of coverings, the android’s metallic servos bare with the wiring visible through the machine’s metal skeleton.

The paladin had been frozen in place with… Fear? Abhorrence? Whatever the case was, it was certainly a jumble of emotions clamouring in his mind, none of them good. His hand had instinctively flown to grip his rifle, stopped only by Jasper’s glare of warning.

Unsure of what to do or say, the paladin had stared unapologetically at Valentine, much to the synth’s obvious displeasure. One thing had been absolutely clear to Danse, however: this _thing_ was not to be trusted, no matter what Jasper may have said otherwise. If he was honest, the only thing that had stopped him from shooting Valentine on sight was the knight standing in the way.

Now, as Danse stood next to Jasper’s inert body as technology he couldn’t begin to understand worked at deciphering Kellogg’s mind, he felt the same level of disgust as his gaze turned from the wall to watch the synth climb out of its pod, guided by Amari’s gentle hand.

“Easy, Mr. Valentine,” she soothed as the disoriented humanoid made its way to a desk chair. “Now, let me disconnect Kellogg’s hippocampus from your mainframe. Sit still.”

“Don’t worry about me goin’ anywhere, Doc,” it said, closing its eyes. “I’m not feeling too steady.”

Danse watched in horrified fascination as the doctor opened the back of the synth’s upper neck and tugged out the small piece of oddly well-preserved brain matter. Watching this process was just as disturbing as watching it being put in, if not more so; the paladin had had to actually remove himself from the room for the initial procedure, not being able to stomach the sight of human remains being tampered with so freely.

“Having someone delve into your mind to such depths, even if it isn’t your own, will have some side-effects,” Amari said without humour, squinting as she concentrated. With a final hum, she tugged the piece of flesh from the synth’s neck and closed the small hatch, straightening herself. “I’m assuming that there may be some mnemonic impressions left behind. Come to me if you notice any changes in your behaviour.”

Danse eyed the machine scathingly as it rose from its seat, nodding at the doctor. “Will do,” it mumbled, giving its head a shake before running its free hand across the small hatch the doctor had toyed with. It then looked up towards Danse, locking its gaze with the paladin’s; the synth’s yellow stare was devoid of any emotion, any expression. Disconcerted and very uncomfortable, Danse looked away with a grimace. A discouraged sigh followed his actions, followed by heavy footsteps.

“Look,” said Valentine as his body cast a shadow across Danse’s legs. The paladin looked up from staring at his boots with a start, taking a quick step back. The thing pursed its lips before crossing its arms, visibly insulted. “I know you don’t like me, if the looks you’ve been giving me are anything to go by. But you gotta be there for her, Danse.”

Hearing his name spoken by this thing sent a shiver down the paladin’s spine. “I’ll continue to, just as I’ve been doing for the past six weeks,” Danse replied brusquely.

“I mean beyond the whole military thing.”

The paladin frowned at Valentine, this time looking up into his optics. “Getting her fit and turning her into a war machine is real nice, Danse, but she needs your emotional support,” the grizzled android continued exasperatedly. “This ain’t an easy time for our girl, and you have to be more than a commanding officer.”

Danse clenched his jaw, holding Valentine’s mechanical stare. The paladin did not want to admit it, but the android was right.

“Duly noted,” was the man’s tense reply. Valentine nodded tersely, taking a step backward.

“Good.”

With that, the synth left the room, waving lazily at Amari before mumbling something about waiting for Jasper upstairs. Danse, unsettled by the short conversation, turned and sat back down next to Jasper’s memory lounger, processing the synth’s advice. He wanted to be there for Jasper as an emotional tether, someone she could count on when it came down to the nitty-gritty of dealing with a kidnapped son and murdered husband, but he couldn’t.

Not with how angry he was with her.

A soft sigh came from Amari, grabbing the paladin’s attention. The doctor was once more bent over her terminal, squinting at something on the screen that Danse couldn’t quite see.

“She’s ready to come back,” the doctor announced quietly, hitting a final key before walking quickly to the front of the lounger. “Let me speak to her before you say anything.”

The paladin nodded before looking down at the knight, standing and backing away. Jasper slowly came to, eyes bleary like she’d been woken from a long sleep; tears were still clinging to her dark lashes, her cheeks still damp from where they had trailed down into her hair. As she raised her head, the lounger opened up with a hiss.

“Slow movements, okay?” said the doctor, reaching out as Jasper rose from her seat, the knight stumbling once before managing to steady herself against Amari’s grasp. “I don’t know what kind of side effects the procedure might have had on you. No one’s ever… Well, this hasn’t been done before. How do you feel?”

Jasper wiped the tears from her eyes and nodded, sniffling once before hugging her torso. “I feel fine,” she mumbled, voice cracking. She cleared her throat once before looking directly at the doctor. “Thank you, doctor.”

“That’s good, but I want you to keep monitoring yourself,” said Amari, eyeing the other woman critically. “We have to be sure there’s no long-term damage. Are you ready to talk about what happened in there?”

Jasper looked over at Danse, who was watching her worriedly. He gave her a quick smile, nodding, hoping he was encouraging enough. She returned the smile weakly before taking a deep breath and turning back towards Amari.

“We got what we needed,” she said, voice much stronger than before. The knight seemed to have collected herself, and was now standing properly.

“I suppose so,” the older woman acquiesced, tapping her chin. “But that only leaves us with more questions. How does it work? Where do we go next? Who do we contact?”

“Well, what about that scientist? Virgil?” Jasper asked, placing her hands on her hips. “We need to find him, get him to tell us whatever he can.”

“A rogue Institute scientist could answer all sorts of questions,” Danse said, stepping forward. Both women looked at him, Jasper nodding while Amari looked pensive.

“Where did the memory say he was? The Glowing Sea?”

At this, the paladin snapped to full attention. “The Glowing Sea?” he repeated incredulously. Jasper frowned, looking at Danse inquisitively.

“What’s the Glowing Sea?” she asked, looking from Danse to the doctor. “Is it an ocean of some kind?”

“It’s where the atom bomb impacted two centuries ago,” explained Danse distractedly. He shook his head disbelievingly. “It’s incredibly dangerous. God knows what even lives out there with the radiation being as bad as it is.” Amari nodded at his words, looking as worried as he felt.

“It doesn’t make any sense,” she muttered, pacing in front of both knight and paladin. “Nobody goes there, even if they’re desperate.” She ran a hand down her face, covering her mouth as she stopped, staring at the ground with a frown.

“Well, if that’s where he is then that’s where I’m going, dangerous or not,” said Jasper determinedly, her voice hard.

“Well,” began the doctor hesitantly, turning to face the pair. “If you’re going to go, be prepared. You’re going to need a way to combat the heavy radiation. It’s called the Glowing Sea for a reason.”

“Power armour and industrial quantities of Rad-X should do the trick, no?” Jasper turned to look at Danse, eyes glinting hopefully in the basement’s bright lighting.

He couldn't even believe the doctor was going to humour Jasper's desperate chase into a zone such as the Glowing Sea; however, he knew the knight would go, with or without him, and the only way he could ensure her safety was to be by her side through it.

“Our Brotherhood-issue suits don’t quite have the protection we need,” he warned after a moment of thought. He held up a hand as Jasper opened her mouth to speak, the woman looking crestfallen. “But I don’t believe it would be a problem for us to get them up to standard.”

“Thank God,” Jasper said, relieved. Her entire body seemed to relax as she let out a long, drawn-out breath. Amari sighed, looking at Jasper with concern.

“Good luck then, and be safe,” the older woman said softly, placing a hand on the knight’s shoulder. Jasper smiled wanly at the doctor, nodding her thanks. The doctor returned the smile as she gave the knight’s shoulder one last squeeze before stepping around his subordinate and heading to her terminal. Letting out a small puff of air, Jasper turned to the paladin, suddenly looking exhausted.

“Let’s go to the Rexford and get some rooms. I’m beat,” she said in a small voice. Danse nodded, relieved at the thought of finally leaving his place. He was tired, too; the last two hours or so had been mentally exhausting, and he was looking forward to getting some rest. With the thought of finally being alone and being able to process the night’s events in peace on his mind, the paladin began making his way to the stairwell, Jasper in tow.

“Oh! By the way,” called out Amari. Danse stopped and turned to look at the older woman, irritated. The doctor ignored his look and spoke directly to the knight. “Jasper, I unplugged Mister Valentine first, and removed the implant while you were waking up. He should be waiting for you in the lobby upstairs.”

Jasper mumbled a thanks and with a final glance at the memory lounger, the knight stepped out of the room and began her walk up the stairs. Danse gave his head a slight but polite tilt towards Amari, who in turn smiled at him before he followed his subordinate out from the basement and back into the dimly-lit lobby.

She headed straight for Valentine, who was sitting at a bench near the exit, while Danse walked by without so much as a glance.

He could feel the knight’s disappointed gaze boring into his back, but truth be told, he was still very much angry with her, and he did not want to be near the synth when he was in this bad a mood.

The paladin stepped out into the cool night air and looked around him nervously. Security officers, or ‘Neighbourhood Watch’ as Jasper had called them, patrolled the street quietly, casting curious glances over at him as they walked by. Various drifters, all in differing states of sobriety, stalked about, some loudly talking while others merely ambled along, their eyes unfocused and dreamy. Frankly, it made his skin crawl, and as the minutes crawled by, he felt more and more anxious.

After what felt like an eternity, Jasper emerged from the Memory Den, wiping her cheeks almost angrily. She looked up at the paladin, giving him a small, wan smile.

“Rexford’s over there,” she said, pointing to a tall building on their right. “I’ll pay for rooms since I’m the one who dragged you out here.” Her voice was low, sad; he paladin felt like he should say something to comfort her, but chose to stay silent.

He was never really good at these things, and with how frustrated he was with her, he wasn’t quite sure what he had to say was quite right.

“Roger that,” he said simply, marching toward the hotel. The exterior of the building looked like it once reflected luxury and grandeur, the paneled windows lined with gold-plated frames. The panes themselves were worn, frosted over by centuries of neglect. The great, heavy wooden doors were riddled with bullet holes, the varnish completely dulled by the ravages of nuclear weather.

“This place used to be beautiful,” said Jasper softly, a hint of nostalgia touching her voice. She stared up at the hotel’s fading neon sign and sighed gently before stepping forward and pushing the door.

The interior looked worse than what Danse had expected. Musty carpets and ratty furniture decorated the large lobby, the only light coming from the fluorescent tubes in the elevated stairwell. The heady smell of cigarette smoke clung to the hot air inside, dust tickling at the paladin’s nose.

A rather short, stout woman was standing behind the reception counter, a sour look on her face as she watched the pair approach. She looked extremely grouchy, and as they got closer, she crossed her arms across her chest, eyeing them warily.

“What’s it gonna be for you two? A half hour?” she grumbled, raising a brow. Jasper’s eyes widened as Danse frowned, confused.

“Why would we only take a room for half an hour?” he asked, narrowing his eyes. The knight briefly closed her eyes before stepping to the counter, shaking her head.

“No no, nothing like that Clair,” she said quickly. “Two rooms for the full night. Can you set us up?”

“Sorry,” Clair said, flipping her hands upwards. “We’re full. I can only do one room for the both of you, and if that don’t work, you can always bum a mattress outside. And if _that_ don’t work,” she added brusquely at Danse’s indignant look, “you can kiss my ass.”

Danse was taken aback at just how nasty this woman was being; Jasper, on the other hand, seemed to take it in stride, smiling widely at the grey-haired woman.

“That’ll be just fine,” she said kindly. “Is it still ten caps a night?”

“Thirty, since there’s two of ya,” was Clair’s answer. “It’s an extra ten for the extra body, plus ten for whatever extra cleanup my workers have to do once you leave.”

The knight hummed softly before reaching into one of the duffel bag’s pockets, counting out the proper amount of caps. Once the fare was paid and the key given to them, Jasper thanked Clair and led Danse up the stairs and down a hallway. Once they reached the very last door on the right, the knight stuffed the key in the lock, the door unlatching with a click.

The door creaked as it swung open, revealing a dim room with a lonely lamp giving off a red glow. The two-person bed shoved in the corner was covered with a thin comforter, as well as some stained pillows. A stiff-looking couch adorned one side of the room, while a simple desk and chair stood against the other.

“Ugh,” groaned Jasper as she closed the door behind Danse, her body slumping against the barrier. The paladin stepped slowly to the couch, throwing the duffel bag onto the desk as he walked by; the bag left a trail in the dust coating the surface as it slid, causing Danse to pull a face. He sat heavily on the tattered sofa, the wood cracking ominously under his weight.

“Well, that was a productive night,” said Jasper from the door. She pushed away from the wall and made her way to the bed, sitting and immediately unlacing her boots. “We know how the Institute travels now. I never would have thought of teleportation. How about you?”

The knight glanced up from her work to look at Danse almost excitedly. Seemingly oblivious to the stone-faced contempt with which he was looking at her, she continued tugging at her laces, slipping the first boot off with a stretch of her foot.

“Teleportation was still a pipe dream back in my day,” she continued, the nostalgia creeping back into her voice as she spoke quickly. “It was something only seen or read about in science-fiction novels. To think,” she added wistfully, again pausing to look at the paladin. “They’ve actually done it. Can you imagine how happy Maxson will be to finally have an answer?”

Danse watched her unlace her second boot in silence, this one flying almost clear across the room as she kicked it off. When the paladin didn’t answer, she looked at him, her head cocked to the side, frowning.

“You’re awfully quiet, Paladin,” she said, all cheeriness gone from her voice. “In fact, you’ve been quiet all night. Aren’t you excited at the thought of having answers?”

“We have more questions to answer,” he said stiffly, rising from his seat. “We made very little progress when it comes to the enigma that is the Institute. There’s no cause for celebration just yet, knight.”

The knight’s face fell, her eyes darkening at his words. “We have more answers than before,” she retorted sharply, her frown deepening. “In fact, we probably have more answers than anyone else in the Commonwealth. Surely that must count for something?”

“I’m not discounting the information we got tonight, knight,” he said, standing. She shrank a little under the glare he shot in her direction. “I’m more inclined to question _you_.”

Shock tensed her features momentarily before adopting a defiant stance, crossing her arms across her chest, eyes sharp. “Why is that?” she asked acidly, raising a brow expectantly.

“Because of who you associate with.”

Confusion fleetingly clouded her expression before realization seemed to hit. “You mean Nick?” she asked, an incredulous laugh biting the heel of her question.

“Yes. The _synth_.” It took every ounce of self-control he had to keep his voice level. Her face hardened at his harsh tone, her arms dropping to rest her hands on her hips. “The very thing we’re fighting against. Is this why you didn’t tell me what _it_ was we were meeting before dragging me to this Hell hole?”

“ _It_ has a name,” she snapped, “and he helped us get what I was after, so you owe him at least _that_. Besides, I know that if I would have told you, you wouldn’t have helped me.”

“You’re damn right I wouldn’t’ve.”

Hurt flitted across her face, mouth dropping open; for a fleeting moment, he regretted what he’d said, but didn’t have time to express this before she sat on the bed, staring up at him. Danse ran a hand through his hair, sighing.

“Look,” he began, but she shook her head, holding up a hand.

“I don’t want to hear it, Danse,” she hissed as she stood back up, glaring daggers at the paladin. “You meant what you said. I don’t want excuses.”

“I wasn’t going to –”

“You are one of the worst people to talk to, you know that?” she continued at a near shout. “You’re so _cold_ all the god damn time. I thought we got somewhere earlier today, but I suppose I was wrong.”

“How did you think this was going to go, Cohen?” Danse shouted in frustration, finally at his wit’s end. She gave a start, looking at him with wide, angry eyes. “You gave me absolutely no warning about who this Valentine was. Did you really expect me to take kindly to you fraternizing with the enemy?”

When Jasper offered no reply, mouth formed into a tight line with her glare intensifying with every passing second, he continued, as incensed as before. “I had serious reservations about opening up to you today, and this is _exactly_ why,” the paladin said, jabbing at the air for emphasis. “Who knows what other kinds of relationships you have, and if they’re anything like what you’ve developed with that… That _thing_ , I want nothing to do with it.”

His words hung heavy in the air as the silence grew thicker. Both knight and paladin stood glaring at the other, one out of anger and the other out of hurt.

“You don’t trust me,” Jasper finally said, breaking the silence. It wasn’t a question, but rather a statement; the paladin pressed his lips together, causing the knight to shake her head with a mirthless laugh. “That’s where all of this stems, isn’t it? Why? What have I done that would make you feel that way?”

Danse held her gaze steadily, his jaw set, light brown eyes bright with anger. He retorted bitterly, holding her gaze as he sounded off each offense, “You don’t share your experiences. You don’t tell me what your plans are, or who you’re associating with. All I have are the assumptions that I make regarding you, and right now, they’re nowhere near good.”

“After every mission we’ve completed successfully,” she growled, bristling visibly. “After being put under your care, after spending weeks having to trust you with _my_ life, that’s seriously how you see me? As an untrustworthy, seedy wastelander?”

“You’re an excellent soldier, but a terrible comrade.”

The knight let out a second, louder laugh this time, lacing her hands through her hair. She stared at him disbelievingly, her eyes filling with tears. “That’s rich, coming from you,” she spat, her voice cracking under her emotions. “You’re so stubborn that you can’t see past the tip of your nose. Your name should be Paladin _Dense_ , not Danse.”

“Mind your mouth,” he warned, offended.

“No.” The woman stared at him defiantly, tears finally spilling over onto her cheeks for the umpteenth time that night. “I’m through minding my mouth around you. I’m done.” She angrily wiped away the tears on her cheeks, turning to face the bed instead of him. “I’m going to bed. Better sleep with one eye open in case I send my ghouls and synths to kill you in your sleep.”

With that, she climbed onto the double bed and covered herself with the comforter, leaving the paladin with a sour taste in his mouth. Giving one last growl of frustration, the paladin turned to grab the duffel bag off of the dusty desk to throw it on the sofa in an attempt to work off some steam. He followed suit, sitting down heavily as the furniture protested.

He sat for what seemed like hours, staring at the wall and going over the argument in his mind. Jasper was completely hidden from view, her body shuddering occasionally with what he assumed were sobs. The paladin closed his eyes, not wishing to witness her crying. He knew that in the morning they would regret their words, but he couldn’t help but feel like it had needed to be said.

Eventually, exhaustion from the day’s events caught up with him and he laid down, using the duffel as a pillow. Staring at the ceiling, he let Jasper’s slow breathing lull him into an uneasy sleep. They would deal with this tomorrow.

They always did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, Danse. What are we going to do with you?
> 
> As always, comments are super appreciated. Let me know if you find any mistakes!


	13. Firestarter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Firestarter
> 
> \--> 2 parts vodka  
> \--> 1 1/2 parts Cointreau  
> \--> 1 1/2 parts peach schnapps  
> \--> 1 1/2 parts Sloe gin  
> \--> 2 parts cola  
> \--> ice
> 
> Fill up a Collins glass with ice. Pour the vodka, peach schnapps, cola, Sloe gin and Cointreau in the glass. Garnish with a lime wedge.

The next few days aboard the Prydwen were quiet for Jasper, what with her and Danse not being on speaking terms after their previous confrontation; the amount of personal interaction the knight had had with him was minimal, save for a short conversation he was present for in which she’d revealed her discovery about the Institute to Maxson.

As there were no pressing missions or tasks for the knight, the Elder dismissed Jasper after her debriefing, the younger man noting that he would contact her when she would be needed.

With their commander updated and the paladin doing everything in his power to avoid her, Jasper had no one on the base to keep her company; aside from the usual knights she did her morning training routine with, she was alone. In that aloneness, she roamed the Prydwen in search for companionship.

It was in this period of her life that the woman realized just how little she knew her brothers and sisters-in-arms: being under Danse’s wing was something of an exclusivity, with his status amongst the ranks as well as his individual presence, though neither had been a disadvantage until now. Jasper had come to discover throughout her fruitless search that others of her rank seemed standoffish, almost scared, as she attempted to connect with them, despite her simple attempts at idle conversation about the weather, how their latest patrol had gone… anything she could think of, without being intrusive.

The awkward exchanges never lasted very long, much to her dismay, as the conversations either fizzled to nothing or gave way to questions about Paladin Danse and the time she’d spent with him. One knight in particular had become comfortable enough to ask why Jasper wasn’t by the paladin’s side, the knight’s question an innocent but raw one to raise. Not wishing to share her reasons, Jasper gave a weak excuse to leave as an abrupt end to the conversation – and further contact with that comrade.

Becoming lonelier and feeling more dejected as the days dragged on, Jasper looked for other things to busy herself. She’d begun this new stage by attempting to modify her power armour for her impending trip to the Glowing Sea.

Proctor Ingram, noticing her plight, had attempted to give Jasper advice as the knight struggled to wrap her mind around the intricacies of the suit. As the lessons turned into confusing, looping maps of the differences between _this_ system and _that_ one, Jasper lost her patience, the issue then arising that mechanics were never really her thing to begin with and it’d simply be easier to leave it to the professionals.

With a sympathetic smile, the proctor dismissed Jasper, saying she’d take over the project from there.

Jasper did not want anybody’s pity, and she certainly wouldn’t take it from the proctor.

Discouraged and in an even more miserable mood, she had no other choice but to leave the maintenance bay.

By pure luck, she’d managed to find a source of distraction in Proctor Quinlan and his scribes immediately after Ingram’s dismissal. From then on, Jasper had taken to slipping into his office and helping the man sort through pre-war documentation and texts, answering any questions she could regarding her life before the bombs dropped -- anything to help, really.

Although reluctant and certainly annoyed with her first, Quinlan quickly warmed up to the knight, even mentioning later in an offhanded comment that the times when she wasn’t in the office with him were rather boring.

Jasper soon felt at home in the stuffy office. She’d spent the better part of a decade surrounded by piles of papers and heavy textbooks, and, unlike some of Quinlan’s scribes, felt immense satisfaction in sorting through and organizing documents as well as aiding the proctor in deciphering the contents of said paperwork. In the familiarity of the office, she felt at peace for the first time in weeks.

Months, even.

It was during one of these quiet interludes that Jasper, who had spent the better part of an early morning sorting through a box of documents for the proctor, was interrupted by a gruff-looking scribe.

”Excuse me, Knight?” he rumbled, knocking on the door’s metal frame.

”Hmm?” she said distractedly from her position on the floor, frowning at a particularly hard to decipher document. When he didn’t speak, she peeked up curiously at the man, lips pursed from her continued concentration. ”Is something wrong?”

”Elder Maxson is requesting your presence in his private quarters.”

Quinlan stopped what he was doing at the request, glancing at the messenger from over his broken rimmed glasses. Jasper frowned before carefully slipping the folder back in the box, sitting back on her knees.

”Did he tell you why?” the woman asked, rubbing her dusty hands on her thighs.

”Negative,” he replied stiffly, shifting in his spot at the threshold. ”He simply said to tell you to meet him in his quarters, immediately.”

She didn’t even hesitate before answering, ”Roger that. Let me finish my task, and I’ll head his way.”

”Of course.” He nodded, and gave a similarly weak nod to the proctor as he saluted. ”Ad Victoriam.”

”Odd,” Quinlan muttered as the scribe left, returning to his work with a subtle shift of his papers.

Jasper watched as the messenger left before sighing gently, rubbing her temples with the backs of her hands. She had no idea what Arthur wanted, but from the scribe’s demeanour it sounded like Maxson finally had a mission for her. Excited at the prospect of having something physically productive to accomplish, she rose from her knees and, with a quick but polite goodbye to the half-interested proctor, left to go meet her Elder.

-oOo-

Despite this being the most well-ventilated room in the entire Prydwen, it was awfully stuffy in Arthur’s private quarters.

Danse sighed as he leaned back in his chair, reaching up to run his fingers though his thick hair to relieve some nervous energy. Irritation nipped at him as he glanced around the room with tired eyes, a dense silence pressing all around the paladin in a discomforting way. He had never been in Arthur’s quarters without the younger man being present, and it almost felt like an invasion of the Elder’s privacy to be here, alone, for no seemingly obvious reason.

The duo had gone their separate ways almost immediately after revealing the teleportation method used by the Institute to Arthur. Since then, Danse had been more than a tad bit irritable, finding that he was snapping easily and lacking the patience he usually prided himself on upholding.

Companionship had never really crossed his mind, partially from his understanding as an officer that there was a constant shift of assignments in lower-ranked personnel so there couldn’t be a connection lasting longer than a mission or two, but once that woman had been doing her damnedest to avoid him, Danse began re-evaluating what Jasper’s company meant to him.

But, of course, he avoided doing that for quite some time. Having found that his go-to release methods did absolutely nothing to help him ignore the rising questions, he meandered the Prydwen and airport in a mindless search for something to do. When that something eventually and inevitably became nothing, he returned to his pre-established routine in an effort to force the emotions to quell: wake up early, eat whatever food the kitchens had available, work out until he could barely stand, crawl over to the shower facilities to clean himself up, eat another meal, go over some (late) paperwork or attempt to finish something on his reading list, and finally go for a late-night run before going to bed.

He became even crabbier as time passed with this more-than-numbing routine as his only release of time and energy, his blood coming to a boil almost daily at the simplest of things going wrong. Danse wasn’t sure if it was part guilt in his actions, part regret with his words, and part disconnect from understanding Jasper’s needs, but whatever the source was continued to elude him.

On this particular day, the paladin was taking himself through a brutal working out in the Prydwen’s on-board recreational facilities when he was interrupted by a scribe with a summons to meet the Elder. Sweaty and severely underdressed, Danse had hurried to his room and made himself presentable before slipping into Arthur’s quarters, expecting a new assignment in the Commonwealth to hopefully continue ignoring the internalized fire brewing inside of him – only to find the room entirely, completely, utterly empty.

No note, no holotape, no Arthur.

Left with his own thoughts, the paladin let his mind wander, impatience tainting his gaze as he wondered silently at why he would have been called: he knew that the Brotherhood was at a standstill when it came to the Institute, therefore having no pressing matters to tend to in that ongoing war; there were no immediate threats to the airport nor the Prydwen, and almost all hostile activity across the Commonwealth was being monitored by various patrols that were more than capable of handling themselves in a firefight with the local gangs.

So why else would Arthur send for him, yet disappear before they could have their meeting?

The sound of the door’s mechanism disengaging brought him back to the present moment, the paladin subconsciously straightening his back. _Finally_ , he thought as the door swung open with a metallic groan, turning to face the entering figure.

He was more than a little disappointed to see that it was not Arthur that stepped into the room, but rather a very casually dressed Jasper. The knight wore nothing but a dusty-white undershirt, jeans and combat boots, her hair twisted into a simple, messy bun at the top of her head. She strode in confidently with her head swung over her shoulder, her gaze lingering in the hallway as she waved to whomever was out there.

”I’m sorry I’m late, Elder,” she said, swinging her form around as she pulled herself into a tight salute. ”I was just helping Proctor Quinlan sort some documents. I didn’t mean to–”

When her gaze fell onto the paladin she physically stiffened, stopping mid-way through a step towards the table as she finished her salute. A look of surprise danced across her features before giving into an unimpressed stare, her mouth pressed into a thin line as the words caught in her throat.

Danse forced himself to keep eye contact, struggling to keep his gaze steady and devoid of any discernible emotion, while hers were quite alive with the anger she still visibly felt towards him.

A tense silence fell over the room as Jasper stalked towards the table, her slow movements more robotic than predatory. Feeling slightly embarrassed as their stare continued to hold, Danse averted his eyes from the knight to stare at a scuff on the table’s surface instead.

Jasper slid into the chair quietly, the paladin feeling the knight’s fiery gaze boring into him as she fumed opposite of him. Her carefully trimmed fingernails tapped into the old table’s surface like a rapid succession of fire from a Gatling gun, shivers rocketing up his spine in an eerily similar fashion that ozone would.

Though the tension remained high between the duo, neither spoke to the other for almost an eternity.

He would look up at her occasionally, words pooling at the edge of his tongue like saliva on a starving dog, yet remained unwilling to break the silence first; his pride, although wounded from their previous altercation, would not allow for him to do so. He knew from past experience that she felt the same way, and it was infuriating that she was so _stubborn_ , but also knew that he could do nothing about it.

The paladin was not caught off guard when the door swung open for the second time, an agitated-looking Maxson briskly walking in without as much as a glance toward either of them. Grumbling something inaudible, the Elder stood at the head of the table and gave Danse a scathing look before throwing an overflowing manila folder onto the table between them.

Like a tidal wave forced beneath a jetty, the younger man snarled, leaning on the table with his hands splayed out on either side of the folder’s spilled contents, ”Do _either_ of you have an inkling as to why I summoned you here?” Danse looked down at the document briefly in shock before looking back up at Maxson, a sense of dread filling his otherwise empty chest.

Danse replied, no air escaping from behind his gritted teeth, ”Negative.”

”No, sir,” Jasper stated, her voice conveying the emotion he felt. Danse’s gaze flickered towards her as her own sight fell onto the stained folder, her brow knit tightly in confusion as she tried working out what might have been going on.

The Elder looked from Danse to Jasper, the vein in his neck throbbing as his jaw clenched like a vice. Maxson pushed away from the table to stand to his full height, his large frame made more imposing by his heavy battle coat and scolding gaze as he told them flatly, ”Simply put, you are wasting my time.” Danse frowned, affronted at his friend and commander’s answer.

”With all due respect, Elder, you summoned us here,” he said as politely as he could, feeling the words grinding on his throat as he said them. ”We were alone for quite some time.” The Elder’s eyes hardened as his frustration targeted the paladin mercilessly, making Danse want to shift under the intensity.

”Speak out of line again and I will have you brought up on charges to the Citadel, Paladin Danse,” Maxson snapped, his tone more than just a warning. ”If you’re done with the nonsense you seem inclined to spew, I’d like to proceed with what I intended to say.” When neither knight nor paladin spoke, he continued with a little less bite in his bark. ”It’s been brought to my attention that my best paladin and my most promising knight have been behaving like a pair of untrained squires, avoiding each other and refusing to so much as look at the other, let alone _work_ together. Needless to say, I am severely disappointed in both of you.”

The paladin felt ashamed at being reprimanded like he was some child. His cheeks warmed as he looked down at his hands for a moment, gathering his thoughts as he evaluated Arthur's words.

Becoming more tired the longer he spoke, the young Elder sighed as he firmly but tiredly commanded, crossing his arms over his chest, ”Explain yourselves.”

Feeling Arthur's gaze boring into him, Danse felt compelled more by obligation to speak first than anything else; the bond he had with the younger man went far beyond that of an elder and paladin, and he had disgraced that with this nonsense with Jasper.

”We… had a severely miscommunicated disagreement,” the paladin eventually answered, relieved that his voice did not betray the overwhelming shame he felt. He looked back up to see that Maxson had raised a brow, looking as thoroughly unimpressed as Jasper's scoff came out to be. ”We – _I_ – felt uncomfortable around Knight Cohen after our trip to Goodneighbor, as some of our morals came to problematic upheavals.”

”As evidenced by your request to have Knight Cohen switched to a different commanding officer.”

Danse felt Jasper’s look of hurt before he saw it, and tried keeping his face as impassable as he felt the two gazes staring at him with different capacities.

The young Elder was unreadable as he lazily flipped the top of the old folder over, seemingly randomly picking up one of the multitude of papers and reading off from it in a slightly disbelieving tone.

”’ _Due to unforeseen differences in beliefs and practices, I believe it is no longer in Knight Cohen_ ’s _or my best interests to continue working together,_ ’” the Elder read aloud, shaking his head slightly as he finished. ”You even go on to assess her mental capacity for her position after you entail the details of this ’Memory Den’ you visited.” The younger man tossed the document back onto the table, crossing his arms once more as he looked back up at the pair, astounded. ”You expect me to believe that a simple _disagreement_ brought you to that conclusion, Paladin? I’ve seen mirelurks with more integrity than this, and you--” The younger man gave a scathing laugh. ”--I _know_ you are better than this.”

”It wasn’t just a disagreement, sir,” Jasper interjected, her voice bigger than she looked. She kept her gaze strictly locked onto the Elder’s as both men turned to look at her, her stare almost as intense as his. ”It went beyond simply not seeing eye to eye. It was--”

”I have no time for this,” interrupted Maxson immediately, drowning out the rest of the knight’s sentence as his voice turned booming. Jasper shut her mouth, obviously taken aback. ”A _disagreement_ is not cause to behave like foolish children,” he hissed. ”I’ll have no more of it, or _both_ of you will face charges for insubordination and failure to report for duty.”

”Elder, if you’d just _listen_ \--”

”ENOUGH!”

His fists slamming into the table rattled both the structure and the two people, sending shockwaves through each of them. His blue eyes seemed to be on fire as he regarded the two with an expression of disdain, rage emanating from every inch of him.

”I hold absolutely _no more_ interest for this matter beyond that of making you realize just how absurd all of this is,” the young Elder murmured, his voice shaking with the fury he barely contained continued spilling over. ”I’d expect a few hours, maybe a day, to pass after this so called ’disagreement’ until you would wake up and realize just how _stupid_ you’ve been. But no, you’ve spent much longer than that wasting my time with childish problems when we’re in the middle of a _war_.”

The paladin did not know how to process the situation, too stunned to even comprehend the words being fed to him by Arthur; Danse hadn’t so much as stepped a toe out of line in nearly a decade yet here he was now, being reprimanded by the man he’d practically raised from prepubescence as a Brotherhood mentor and impromptu brother.

It was discouraging to know that beneath all of the anger he himself felt for the situation, there would still be a commander-commandee relationship between him and the young Elder, and that was something Danse would have to come to terms with.

As if he felt his point had been made, Maxson retracted somewhat as the anger subsided, a heavy sigh escaping him as he ran a hand through his hair, briefly closing his eyes and running a hand across the back of his neck before refocusing on his audience. ”Emotions cannot get in the way of duty,” he said in his tired voice once more. ”I expected better from both of you. As a way to make up for lost time, I’m sending you on a patrol. Together. Immediately.”

Danse nodded, ignoring the reluctance gripping at his chest. _A patrol?_ He hadn’t been on one of those since his days as a knight.

How embarrassing.

”Roger that,” the paladin said flatly, Jasper mumbling a meek, ’Yes, sir,’ from her seat at the end of the table.

”Excellent,” said Maxson, looking severely older as his scar cut deeply into his frowning expression. ”You’ll be canvassing the Northwestern-most area, as defined by the coordinates our resident captain-lancer will be giving you. You’ll be gone for a full 3 days, barring a death or a major change of plans. Dismissed.”

-oOo-

”Ingram wasn’t happy about us taking our power armour,” Jasper said, her voice distorted by her helm’s speaker.

”I don’t care. I refuse to patrol without it.”

Danse ignored Jasper’s robotically warbled sigh as he stomped ahead, his rifle drawn close to his chest. Ingram had let her displeasure known as the paladin had requested to take the suits out. The proctor had protested heavily against their use, seeing as they were in the middle of being modified for their impending trip to the Glowing Sea and, ”Any fraction of damage to the suits could cause major harm in the mission later on.”

The paladin had apathetically replied to the proctor's argument, instead opting to hop into his suit despite Ingram’s loud shout of, ”Stubborn fool!” echoing behind him as Danse left the maintenance bay with an exasperated Jasper in-tow.

They’d been trekking through cold, foggy weather for the better part of twelve hours now, trudging through sopping, overgrown fields and dense woods. Night had already begun setting around them, the sky seeming to darken with every step they took. Clouds had covered what little remained of the visible sky, threatening them with a heavy storm; the paladin could smell the heavy scent of electricity hanging in the air through the suit’s filtration. No movement could be heard, no wind could be felt; it was as if someone had flipped a switch and turned everything off for the night.

Which was good for them, he supposed.

Aside from Jasper’s comment on the overgrowth being a burden, conversation between them had been nonexistent. Residual anger from Goodneighbor made it nearly impossible to speak without some sort of negative emotion creeping to the surface, and certainly their reprimand from Arthur hadn't made things easier, either.

It made things rather uncomfortable, but Danse suffered in silence, unsure of what to do or say without angering the knight further.

The paladin could feel contempt radiating from the knight as they marched tirelessly to their set coordinates, hearing her disgruntled cries grow louder and more agitated the more obstacles they faced.  He sympathized with her, but he did not mention it; patrols were tough, and required soldiers to be in constant movement and vigilance with little rest. The paladin was not partial to them himself, and seeing as this was Jasper’s first official one, seeing as ArcJet Systems hadn’t really been much of a trek, he did not expect the knight to be very pleasant company throughout this mission.

At the thought of sleep, Danse suppressed a yawn, slowing his momentum to look over his shoulder at the shuffling power armor-clad woman. ”We need to stop for the night and rest up,” he told her. ”It’s getting far too late to continue safely.”

”It hasn’t even been a day,” mumbled a miserable knight as she took stride next to him, another sigh escaping her lips. He heard her footsteps stop not too far behind him, her armour creaking gently as she placed her fists on her hips. The paladin followed her movement and stopped, fully facing her. ”Are we bivouacking out here, or was there somewhere you had in mind in all of this?” She raised an arm and vaguely waved it, her helmet hiding every emotion but her voice’s.

”Bivouac.” He shifted in his spot, moving his weight from one foot to another as he suppressed another achy yawn. ”Unless you want to walk back four hours to that ranger cabin, we don’t have much of a choice.”

”Well,” she started, her arms dropping to swing by her side. ”My Pip-Boy says Sanctuary Hills is approximately six miles Northeast from our position. I know the settlers there personally, so we’ll have more than enough shelter and food to last us for the night.”

”That will throw us off course by at least two hours in this brush,” he said flatly, shaking his head. ”We can’t afford to waste time.”

The echo of Arthur’s bitter words tasted sour in Danse’s mouth, but he spat them out with the understanding that they could not fail this time.

”We can make up the time tomorrow morning,” she insisted impatiently, brushing past his tone to steel her own, despite it coming out as almost a whine. ”I don’t want to be out here any longer than I have to, seeing as how this area at midnight isn't the safest to be.”

He sighed heavily. She was right; the thick forests of the north were dangerous to traverse even on the brightest of days, just because of the relative ease it took for one to get lost in them. Besides, if the settlement she spoke of really did have all they would need for a proper rest, it would help them save on supplies for the remainder of their patrol.

And the possibility of a bed didn't hurt, either.

”Fine,” he said, reluctance clear in his voice. ”You have a marker on your map?”

She shuffled in her armour, as if his agreement raised her spirits. ”Yes, sir.”

”Let’s go. Draw your weapon.”

The paladin didn’t have to see her face to know that she’d shot him a sour look at the command; nonetheless, she pulled out her laser rifle and held it up and at the ready. The knight turned away from him and began the hike to this Sanctuary Hills, her footing hesitant as darkness began falling heavily around them, making walking steadily a challenge in these rocky foothills.

Danse followed as close as he dared to the knight, falling back into his usual tandem of walking a few steps and casting a sharp look around himself to check for any signs of movement. He was a bit unsettled at the lack of activity in this part of the Commonwealth: while the rest had been torrid and nearly savage, the North seemed to be much more forgiving, save for the steep inclines and thick brush. They hadn’t even come across a pack of wild dogs, and that in itself was surprising.

As wary as he was to accept the calmness of the environment, Danse came to the conclusion that he could let himself relax without worrying too much; information was on his side this time around, and it’d be in his best interests to lean on that until they reached their destination.

Jasper, on the other hand, seemed more nervous than he’d seen her in a while, the knight jumping at the smallest of sounds not from the duo. She forgot to keep her weapon drawn, often times focusing more on her Pip-Boy’s eerie green screen than the road ahead. The knight’s constant stress, although understandable, was wearing her out much quicker than he had expected. Her inexperience out on the field was the biggest culprit, and, as irritating as it was, he couldn’t exactly blame her.

Danse trailed closer to Jasper as she led the way out of the woods and into an open strip of land. They emerged beneath an electrical pylon, its decrepit wires hanging uselessly from the rusted metal structure; overgrown grass reached the knees of his suit, the softer earth of the field buckling under the weight of his footsteps. A gentle slope led down to a wide river, the water softly lapping at the muddy banks.

He heard Jasper give a soft sigh before stopping, the paladin doing the same.

”What’s wrong?” he asked, stepping beside her.

”I need to pee,” she answered dryly, turning her head to look at him.

After a brief pause, he retorted, “…can’t you hold it?”

She shook her head weakly, the movement minimal with the suit on. ”No. I’ve been holding it for the past three hours.”

Danse heaved a sigh, a groan developing deep in his gut as he lurched forward. ”Hurry,” he barked impatiently, walking away to give her privacy. ”I don’t like standing out here like this; it’s too open. We’re prime targets.”

”Yeah, yeah. Keep your shirt on,” she growled, her power armour creaking as she waved at him agitatedly.

He shook his head as she disengaged her power armour, the hissing of the hydraulics echoing across the field. She stepped out and, with a last glance shared between the two, turned to go back towards the woods, unzipping her flight suit as she jogged away.

He felt vulnerable as he stood vigil next to Jasper’s empty suit of armour. Yes, he had a fully charged weapon and, _yes_ , he was constantly paying attention to his so far sublimely safe surroundings, but he was alone. Though they had been lucky so far, it could change at any moment.

Thankfully, it did not take long before Jasper came jogging back towards him, her footsteps crunching in the dry grass. He watched her approach with relief, casting one last glance around him before directing his attention fully onto her.

”I assume you’re feeling better,” he said as a form of greeting. She nodded sagely as she stepped back into her suit.

”Yep,” was her terse reply, giving her arms a wiggle once the hydraulics locked into place. ”All set to go.”

”Lead on, then.”

The knight nodded before pausing to take a look at the moving water at the bottom of the hill. “We’ll follow the river,” she said after a moment, her voice thoughtful but restrained. “It will lead us right to the bridge to Sanctuary, and then we can rest.”

”I hope you know what you’re doing, Knight Cohen,” he said as he stepped around her and towards the stream, deciding he’d take point this time. He heard the knight mutter something under her breath as she moved to catch up to him; whatever it was, Danse assumed it was something unflattering, and, to preserve his already thin patience, he chose not to ask about it.

As they neared the end of the hill and the water’s edge came to be a hardly a few meters away, Jasper quickened her pace, her feet making unsavoury squelching sounds in the soft mud. Danse watched as she stumbled and slipped with a loud squeak, catching her fall with a heavy stomp in the shallow water.

”Be careful,” he hissed, doing everything in his power not to yell. ”Mud and armour do not mix. You should know this by now.”

”Well _excuse me_ Paladin Danse,” came her acidic reply, regaining her balance and straightening as best as she could. ”We can’t all be perfect soldiers like _you_.”

”Sarcasm won’t get you anywhere,” he snapped, walking towards her. ”You--”

He was cut off by a gunshot and the loud _ping_ of a bullet hitting steel. Danse ducked his head as Jasper yelled in surprise, instinctively raising his arms to protect his head. Forcing himself to stay calm, he looked around for any sign of movement, listening for the tiniest sound that could give away their assailant’s position as he stared down the sights of his rifle. Jasper pulled out _Righteous Authority_ , crouching low to the ground, aiming wherever she looked. The paladin moved to do the same, except…

He couldn’t.

His right leg’s joint seemed to be stuck, and refused to bend. It gave a screech of protest before blocking completely. ”God _dammit_ ,” he hissed under his breath. The large helmet glass turned to stare unforgivingly up at him when he spoke, her rifle lowering slightly.

“Keep watch,” he whispered to her, his voice calm but his pulse racing. ”I need to step out of my armour.”

Jasper hummed in response, resuming her anxious observation as she stepped closer to his armour as an impromptu shield. Danse took a deep breath before stepping out of his suit, a second but more frustrating breath escaping him; it was entirely pitch black now, and the chances of him being able to find the problem were slim.

”I can’t see anything,” Jasper whispered, turning on the spot to look behind her. She sounded panicked, which did nothing to calm Danse’s nerves.

”Just keep watch,” he commanded with more patience than he had, frustrated at this God-awful situation. Why did his suit have to pick _now_ to malfunction? Seeing as how he couldn't understand how his power armour’s leg would have malfunctioned just out of the blue, they might have been dealing with someone that had the eye of an eagle while they sat here like lambs to the slaughter.

Stepping away from the steel contraption, he let out a defeated sigh.

”Will this help?” In the silence of the night, the click of Jasper’s headlamp turning on sounded nearly as loud as the gunshot. Its rather dim glow cast a cone of light across the otherwise dark waters of the river, the beam of light twinkling against its surface. Nothing could be heard otherwise, save for the rustling of the grass in the wind.

Danse frowned, his reprimand for the headlamp dying in his throat as a realization struck him like a crashing vertibird: _there is no wind._

He barely had time to register his panic before a pair of arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him back against an armoured chest. He heard Jasper give a shout before he squeezed his eyes shut against the pressure on his throat, a strangled yelp echoing out with the knight’s cry. Danse brought his hands up to the man’s forearms, pulling as hard as he could in an effort to open his airway.

”Don’t struggle. It’ll only make this more painful,” a hoarse voice growled in his ear, his lips working against the edge of Danse’s ear. His assailant’s breath smelled like alcohol and rotting meat, the leather on the man’s arm pinching the skin on the paladin’s neck as the grip tightened more. ”I want your shiny power armour, and I’ll take it whether you like it or not. Same goes for your little friend there.”

Cold dread poured down the paladin’s spine as he looked over at Jasper, fear clear in his murky brown gaze as he saw two other figures saunter from either side of the struggling men.

Jasper was standing in the river, her stance wide and rifle raised to work back and forth between the two strangers walking slow but confidently towards her. They both had their own weapons drawn, aimed right at the knight. A particularly mean-looking woman stepped around Jasper’s flank, her shotgun raised and aimed directly at the dimly-lit helmet.

”Didn’t you hear him?” the raider shouted, stopping a few feet beside the knight. ”We want your armour. Get out.”

”Don’t – _ah!_ ” Danse’s protest was cut short by the jab of a knee to the back of his own, his leg giving out from under him.

Giving a squeeze of warning on his throat, his assailant muttered as he followed the paladin down, ”Shut the fuck up, or next thing on your throat’s gonna be a lot sharper than my arm.” To prove the point, another squeeze was made to Danse’s throat, earning the raider a struggled gasp for air.

Jasper glanced at the paladin before refocusing on the raider beside her, her headlamp illuminating the other woman’s impatient expression. The raider seemed to become more physically frustrated as the seconds trickled by, nothing but the water lapping at Jasper’s feet breaking the silence.

”I won’t say it again,” the woman growled menacingly after a moment of silence, cocking the shotgun with a vicious movement. “ _Get. Out._ ”

”No,” said the knight resolutely. ”If you want it, you’ll have to take it from my dead body.”

There was a sickening crunch as Jasper swung her rifle around, the butt of the weapon colliding with the woman’s jaw. With a yelp of pain, she stumbled back, dropping her shotgun as both hands rushed to her gushing face.

The knight aimed at the woman’s stumbling form and, without hesitation, let off a shot at the raider’s chest at too close of a range to survive. The man holding Danse gave a strangled yell as this raider dropped like a ragdoll, his grip around the paladin’s throat tightening almost to the point of him passing out.

”The same will happen to you if you don’t back off,” he heard Jasper say with more authority than she held, her helmet’s light swinging back and forth as she stared at the other two raiders. ”Drop your weapons.”

The clatter of makeshift weaponry slopping into the mud was quiet but thunderous in Danse’s oxygen-lacking brain, the other raiders rushing away from the scene almost immediately.

It was now that Jasper turned to face Danse’s assailant, looking cold with her helmet staring back at them in the darkness of the night. The paladin, although still very conscious of his surroundings, was struggling to breathe properly, and was rapidly losing the strength to keep fighting against this inhumanly strong raider.

 _Psycho,_ he thought vaguely, choking on what little air he had. _Or Buffout; it has to be._

”You,” Jasper said, raising her rifle to aim at Danse’s assailant. “Let him go.”

”Fuck you,” the raider spat, his voice trembling.

The knight took a step towards the dead raider sinking in the mud, her voice almost nonchalant as she said, ”Is that your final answer?”

”You killed one of mine, so I’m going to kill one of yours,” the raider struggled to say, the emotion pooling from his words unreadable but very tangible, especially around Danse’s neck.

The raider snarled viciously, spittle flying across the paladin’s cheek as the man screamed incoherently at Jasper. The grip loosened suddenly as Danse was flung from the raider’s arms, forcing him face-first into the muck and flowing water of the river.

Before he could turn over to see the fight, a second shot echoed through the empty expanse of the river as sopping earth and ozone filled his aching lungs.

“Like Hell you will,” he heard her mutter over the wracking of his coughs, the knight kicking through the mud over the raider corpses to him.

He couldn’t meet her eyes as she offered him a hand, the dim light shining too brightly and too closely for him to properly see more than the outline of her helmet.

“You okay, paladin?” she asked as he used her to find his footing once more.

He shrugged, a deep-set frown on his face. “Let’s just get out of here,” he replied to the emotionless face of her power armor, moving back over to his own suit with a defeated sigh on his dirtied lips. “But I may have to leave this until morning, seeing as how if _I_ can’t get it out, it’s highly unlikely anyone else would.”

“Alright,” was Jasper’s quiet, but concerned, reply. “Should we at least take the fusion core out before we go?”

“No. Leave it. I want nothing to do with it right now.”

Nothing more was said as the knight began the march along the river, this time at a much slower pace. The paladin was sluggish in his movements as he attempted to regulate his breathing, the remnants of panic and fear still pulsing through him with every erratic beat of his heart. With a final glance back at his power armour, he traipsed sullenly along the river to catch up to the knight.

As he followed the knight to their destination, Danse attempted to wipe some of the mud from his face, swallowing against the scratchy pain irritating his throat. The paladin shivered as water seeped through to his undershirt; the night was mild, but he couldn’t help the chill that seemed to rack his body. He supposed it had to do with the trauma he’d just endured, but Danse refused to entertain the thought of giving in to the storm in his mind.

Emotion shouldn’t get in the way of duty, after all.

It was almost serendipitous that the sky chose this moment to finally weep, warm, heavy rain falling around them as they walked in silence once more. The paladin turned his face upwards and let the water wash away whatever mud had been left behind. He blinked as large droplets hit his skin, soothing the throbbing pain left behind by the raider. He could feel the bruises forming around his neck, and imagined his face would soon follow suit with ugly purple bruising to match.

“Hey,” she eventually spoke, breaking him from his thoughts momentarily. Jasper pointed up ahead of them, beckoning towards a small rise in the land that hid anything beyond it. “Up over that rise, we’ll be in Sanctuary.”

All Danse could think to do was nod; he had no energy to make any clever quip in response, and would have to give her a rain check on it.

For now, he’d make do with the promise of a bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Resolution is coming. Worry not.
> 
> I cannot express enough how frustrating this chapter has been. It was a really tough past four weeks, and writing was a huge challenge for me. Thank you so, SO much for the patience you guys afford me. I love and appreciate each and every one of you. As a way to make up for the long wait, here's a tremendously long chapter.
> 
> HUGE shoutout to chiixil84 for her help with this chapter. She edited her ass off to make this as good as it is, and I quite literally could not have done it without her. I should be back to a regular posting schedule for the next few chapters. 
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed reading. As always, comments are suuuuuper appreciated~


	14. The Beauty Beneath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Beauty Beneath  
> \--> 2 oz. Dark rum  
> \--> 1/2 oz. Sweet Vermouth  
> \--> 1/2 oz. Campari  
> \--> 1/2 oz. Triple Sec  
> \--> 1 Dash Angostura Bitters  
> \--> Orange twist (for garnish)
> 
> Shake all ingredients with ice. Strain and pour into chilled cocktail glass.

Their welcome to Sanctuary was not as smooth as Jasper had said it would be.

Two settlers, both armed with what seemed to be heavy rifles, offered sanctuary by focusing unabashedly at the approaching duo with their weapons off of the safety, more-so aiming towards the lumbering Jasper rather than the unarmed paladin. The first man was rather short and very thin, his dark hair standing nearly on end with eye sockets sunken deeper than Quinlan's finest scribes, and wore leather armour strikingly similar to Jasper's attire the night she came swinging into his life. The other man, Sturges as the first had called him, looked eerily similar to how Danse himself looked hardly more than a decade ago, wearing nothing but a mechanic's jumpsuit with the wooden walls of a primitive defence tower shielding his otherwise audaciously exposed body.

Of the two men, the sturdily-built Sturges took command of the situation by asking in a strongly accented yet unwavering voice what the hell they wanted, a pointed yet wary look going the power armour-clad woman's way as his question ended with the glint of the machine gun's barrel swinging towards them.

The knight, to her best degree, attempted to sway those she'd thought friends to let them in, yet her pleas fell on deaf ears.

“As long as y'er in that there power armour,” Sturges had grumbled, inching his weapon and threat percentile higher with each syllable, “y'er a threat t'me, my friend Jun here, an' the rest of my crew.”

An argument had broken out, then, as she attempted to reason with the settlers by telling them things that only they would know -- things that Danse honestly had little understanding of in this light, but was sure by her pitch alone that she was being honest.

It was useless as ever, however: the guards refused to budge on their position, and as a result Jasper lost her cool demeanour.

Taking a single menacing step forward, she seethed under the lights of their crosshairs, her warbled voice coming out like escaping steam through the suit's microphone, “How can you not _recognize_ me?!”

Seeing the wiry man's muscles twitch against the tension of the situation, Danse took it upon himself to step in, tiredly reminding her that it had been a long time since she'd come this way, and that no matter how loudly she yelled they would not recognize her with the helm hiding her face.

The knight had conceded with a soft sigh and, with a click and hiss, she removed her helm and gave the two men guarding the settlement a more-than-disgruntled glare.

A squint through the darkness and a shout of recognition following immediately after, both knight and paladin had been let into Sanctuary amongst friendly smiles and happy exclamations despite the awkward show of force that had just been pressed against her.

Questions pelted them from every side: how had she been? Had Jasper been eating properly? Was she in need of any help? Why had communication with the settlement been so scarce from Jasper's end? Where had she been all this time?

Despite being overwhelmed and beyond exhausted, Danse had stood quietly next to his subordinate as both guard rail and support. He let Jasper take the brunt of the impromptu interrogation while he observed the guards and growing crowd closely, in case any others decided the sentiments were only for show.

Now, standing on the road just past the bridge as Jasper graciously answered the gaggle of settlers' bombardment, a tall, dark-skinned man wearing a militia hat and long, tan coat stepped through the sea of chattering, dirty faces as if he were Moses parting the irradiated sea. His smile was bright in the dim light of the string of bulbs that hung from posts along the road, sending somewhat of a shock through Danse at how _clean_ he looked.

“Miss Jasper,” the newcomer said, his voice much gentler than the paladin had expected. “It’s good to see you in once piece.” He shuffled the strap of his rifle against his chest nervously, standing proudly yet respectfully before the knight.

“It’s good to see you too, Preston,” Jasper replied equally as gentle, her eyes equally if not brighter than his, Danse noticed. As tired as the knight claimed to be, all that seemed to disappear at the sight of what he assumed were her friends.

The young man gave a quick glance at Jasper’s power armour then, his eyes lingering on the Brotherhood sigil before looking back up at the knight, his spotlight-like smile dimming somewhat to match the streetlights above. "You've been busy, huh?"

Jasper's gaze followed the darkening ones of the man's as they fell over her armour, but rather than becoming defensive at his pressing question she gave an almost non-committal shrug with a simple, "You could say that," tagged onto the end, severely cauterizing that conversation to be dealt with at a later date.

“Actually, it’s good to see everyone,” she then corrected herself, a slight laugh on the heels of her statement in a complete 180 turn-around from her previous comment. Jasper took a step forward and motioned vaguely around her, her heavy heels scraping along the old asphalt as her head swiveled around to take in the settlement as if it were for the first time. “I like what you’ve done with the place; it seems bigger, almost.”

Although there were some empty concrete lots scattered throughout the area he could see, a few of what remained of the neighbourhood’s houses had been salvaged and turned into habitable structures; generators had been built, seemingly enough to power each home. Walls had been repaired and, in some places, replaced completely, giving an almost quilt-like look to these old structures; roofs were fixed, exteriors had been painted, plants and turrets had been planted here and there… All in all, much work had been put in to making this place worthy of its name: a sanctuary.

Though he had no clue what the settlement's previous condition had been, Danse could tell the time and care that had been placed in what now stood before them, taking all of it in while Jasper conversed jovially with the group. The paladin tuned out the chatter, far too exhausted to even care about what was being said at this point -- and, after what felt like an eternity, was eventually brought out of his silent observation by a gentle, armoured hand weighing down his shoulder.

“Hey,” said Jasper softly as he looked up to meet her concerned gaze. A fleetingly puzzled expression crossed her features before she forced it into a smile. “I’m done being interrogated,” she half-heartedly joked. “We can go settle into my – I mean _our_ place for the night before eating. They made radstag stew, and we’re welcome to some, if you want, since I'm not really sure what they put in it this time. Oh, and Marcy offered to have a look at your injuries, too, so we can--”

Danse put a hand up to stop the rapid barrage of words, shaking his head slowly as he concentrated on their meaning. “No,” he said finally, his tone blunt yet not unkind. “I don’t wish to frown on their hospitality, but right now, all I want is peace and quiet, and a warm place to rest.”

Jasper’s mouth pinched into a thin line, the look of concern once more stretching across her face. “Okay,” she said with a soft, almost inaudible sigh. “Follow me, then, Paladin.”

And follow he did, up the road and past what appeared be a communal cookhouse that had been from what he supposed was the carcass of the previous lot's dwelling, if the major supports on either side were to go off of. Though the scent of rain still hung heavy in the air, the smell of something bubbling away on a stove wafted along the gentle breeze to the paladin. It smelled surprisingly good, to the point his mouth began to water as he picked out the spiced, earthy aroma from the deep burning of the wood, but he was reminded of Jasper's comment of what had been put in it 'this time' and it made him almost stop to think.

As if to solidify his hesitation, a sharp throb from his cheek brought him back down to earth with a hiss. He reached up and touched the laceration, his fingers returning with bloodied grit staining their tips.

“We’ll clean that up in a sec,” said Jasper next to him as they came up to a particularly brightly lit house, the woman's voice firm yet kind. The door, although weather-beaten, was still a bright orange, the dark wood grain peeking through the peeling paint. The knight walked up the concrete steps and pushed the door open, the hinges amazingly quiet. “Come on in. This is where we rest for the night.”

The paladin followed her in, blinking rapidly against the harsh light of the fluorescent bulbs hanging above a small island counter in the kitchen. It was pleasantly warm in the home, a bright fire crackling almost cheerfully in a rusty but still functional fireplace.

He frowned as he took in the home’s unusually clean appearance: furniture was still usable and well-placed within the living room and dining area, the kitchen appliances still functional even after centuries of existence. The floors had definitely seen some better days, but were oddly shiny, almost as if someone had been taking care of them for the past two centuries; shelves and picture frames still hung on the moderately clean walls, faded but still recognizable.

“This is quite the place,” he observed out loud, glancing up at the intact, non-molded ceiling. Jasper gave the house a quick sweep with her eyes, a sad smile elongating her tired face further.

“It’s home,” she said simply before walking to a second door placed between the living room and kitchen areas. “You can make yourself at home while I step out of my armour and go grab some food. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“Roger that.”

The second the door clicked shut behind the knight, Danse let out a soft groan before closing his eyes and letting his shoulders slump. Exhaustion tore at him, relentless in its attack as he finally let himself relax. His body ached, his throat was tight and scratchy, and his face felt like it was on fire from his fall... he hadn't quite realized just how much damage the raider had done to him until now.

Alone with his thunderous thoughts, the paladin felt restless; he did not want to think about what had transpired with the raider, much less about how Jasper had had to save his life.

Shame mingled with his feelings at the thought, a swirling dance of anger and embarrassment towards himself beating at his already wounded pride. More agitated and irritable the longer he remained immobile, the paladin turned away from the door and faced the living room, giving a slow glance around him.

Aside from the quiet yet constant thrum from the generators outside, it almost looked like he had stepped into a magazine article from 200 years prior. Picture frames decorated the small wooden side tables that rested on either side of the blazing fireplace, with defunct lamps with faded shades occupying the room’s corners while a bright red sofa and set of armchairs nestled gently between the window and the kitchenette. The recessed shelves lining the wall next to the main door were bare, save for what looked like a certificate of sorts and a tri-fold American flag ceremoniously kept in a fogged but nearly perfectly-conditioned glass case.

The longer he stared, however, he began noticing the faded but still everlasting affect of the nuclear blast scarred on the walls where carbon-based objects had been vaporized into nothing more than shadows.

He stepped deeper into the room, his eyes wandering over the pictures until one of the smaller frames on the table nearest him caught his attention. He gripped it gently, looking closely at the monochrome photograph behind the glass.

A couple stood proudly on the steps to the Bunker Hill monument, the husband wearing a softly coloured three-piece suit while his wife wore a long white coat, a dark handbag hanging lazily from her wrist. The woman leaned into her partner with a soft smile on her lips, whereas he looked seriously over the camera's line of sight to whoever was photographing them. The exposure levels of the photograph darkened half of the man’s face, but Danse could tell he was tired from the pinched semblance of a smile he wore.

She, on the other hand, looked bright and hopeful. Her hair, lighter in colour than her husband’s, fell in waves around her face; a single, stubborn curl caressed her cheek, drawing the paladin’s attention to a very familiar stripe of discoloured skin, noticeable even now after the years ate at its image.

Engrossed in the photograph, Danse felt an awfully eerie feeling creep along his spine, sending waves of confusion through his overly exerted mind.

It couldn't have been her, he decided almost panickedly. It just _couldn't_ be.

“Excuse me, sir, but have you seen Miss Jasper? I believe I was supposed to prepare her room for her arrival.”

More than just a little bit startled, Danse spun around on his heel, his grip tightening on the picture frame as he gave a start. He came face to face with a Mr. Handy robot, the unit floating idly next to the sofa behind the paladin with its too-large optics staring at him with more emotion he cared to give it credit for.

“She’s gone to get some food,” Danse said, dumbfounded. The machine spoke rather eloquently, and as well-spoken as the paladin was, he hadn't heard such an accent in anyone other than Proctor Quinlan.

“Ah, splendid!” The robot gave a small sigh as it bobbed, almost as if to emphasize its nonexistent feeling of relief. “Are you with Miss Jasper then?”

“Yes,” was all the paladin could manage, his mind still working to fully register the presence of the domestic aide. The robot’s optics were disconcerting in their unblinking stare, and for a moment, all that was heard was the puttering of its thruster.

The door opened then, both the paladin and the Mr. Handy turning to see Jasper step across the threshold with a grunt. She was free of her armour, precariously balancing two bowls of stew as she struggled with the ancient door. Jasper glanced briefly at Danse before gently kicking the door shut.

The Mr. Handy’s chassis rattled as it rapidly turned to face the knight, exclaiming cheerfully, “Mum! Welcome home!”

“Good evening Codsworth,” the woman said, readjusting her grip on the steaming bowls of food. “It’s wonderful to see you again.”

“Same to you, mum,” the robot replied, dipping in a semblance of a bow, one of its arms coming up to salute the woman. It was all Danse could do to hold back a laugh; he had never seen a Mr. Handy be quite so expressive, and it all seemed comical to the tired paladin. “Let me set the table for you, Miss Jasper. I’ve missed tending to and conversing with somebody that isn't a dog, as lovely as Dogmeat is.”

“Come on now Codsworth,” Jasper said with a chuckle as the robot grabbed the bowls from its owner, bringing them to the faded green dining table. “He’s not too bad of a conversationalist, if you can get past the barking.” A sound resembling a chuckle left the Mr. Handy as he set the bowls down on opposing sides of the table, the robot giving another cheerful bob.  

“Dinner is served,” the unit chirruped cheerfully, its optics focusing on both Jasper and Danse at once. Codsworth backed away from he table, leaving room for Jasper to walk past it and sit at one of the chairs. “Enjoy, mum!”

As the knight began to eat with ill-concealed enthusiasm, Codsworth busied itself with idle housework, taking a rag from the oven’s handle and wiping down the counter while humming a soft tune. The man felt very out of place as he watched the scene unfold; it seemed surreal that something so pure would happen in today’s world, and Danse felt like he was watching a scene from an old Mr. Handy commercial.

Were it not for the ravages of time and damage from nuclear fallout, it would have been picture perfect.

A sense of awkwardness slowly began to seep through the paladin as he stood alone in the living room. All at once, Danse became aware of the picture frame still in his hands; it felt heavy as the reality of what this woman had gone through set in. Jasper had led a life before him, before the war, before the Brotherhood.

Long before he was even born.

This robot, the picture… This _home_ was the proof he hadn’t known he needed until now, and he felt quite foolish for having doubted her in any way.

Danse thumbed the wood of the frame, giving the picture one last glance before turning and setting it back in its place on the side table. The paladin steeled his confused emotions before making his way to the dining area, keeping his face as stoic as he could though the constant pain prickling on his face. He was hungry, after all, and he wouldn't let his embarrassment get in the way of enjoying what could very well be the only proper meal he’d have for the remainder of their patrol.

Jasper observed him with quiet concern as he made his way over, pausing her eating just long enough to watch him pull out a chair.

“Nice of you to join, Paladin,” she said as he sat across from her.

The paladin offered nothing but a nod in response to her comment; a few seconds of uncomfortable silence followed before the knight resumed eating, albeit at a much slower pace. She seemed to be doing her best to avoid eye contact, her brow lightly furrowed. A frown creased the paladin’s forehead as he attempted to read the knight’s emotions. Was she angry? Frustrated? Whether it was because of her past as a lawyer or not, the woman was incredibly good at masking her emotions, something the paladin found to be frustrating just as much as it was fascinating.

Choosing not to overthink her silence, Danse picked up his own spoon and stared at it for a few seconds before beginning to eat himself, finally giving in to the gurgling of his stomach.

Dinner went by silently, the knight finishing her stew long before him. By the time Danse had eaten the last of his meal, Jasper had left the table and had disappeared somewhere in the home. As he chewed the last bit of pleasantly tender radstag, he watched as she placed a small medkit on the coffee table in the living room.

The knight seemed to be waiting for him to finish up, casting furtive glances at him while he ate. She was toying with the zipper at her throat as she stared off into space, her eyes twinkling in the light of the fireplace. Although he wanted to do nothing but lay down and sleep, the paladin felt obliged to go to her and see what she wanted.

With a soft sigh, Danse pushed back from the table, picking up his empty bowl as he stood. He waved away an insistently helpful Codsworth -- “Come now, sir! It would be my pleasure!” -- and brought the dish to the sink to give himself something to do other than dwell on his misfortunes.

“Come see me in here,” Jasper said when she noticed he was done. Danse turned to face the knight, a brow raised. She sighed and gave him the same look of concern that seemed to be permanently etched on her face when looking at him. It made him feel worse than he already did, and for a fleeting moment, Danse wanted nothing but to tell her to keep her pity for herself and to leave him the Hell alone.

Biting back the scathing retort, he instead looked blankly at her, standing stupidly next to the kitchen’s island counter. Looking frustrated that she even had to clarify her intentions, she said with an irritable sigh, “I’m going to patch you up. You look terrible.”

“I don't need to be reminded, Knight,” he retorted bitterly. Her affronted glare pulled a sigh from him as he attempted to quell his irritation.

_She just wants to help you, you asshole._

“But,” he continued in a much softer tone, “I would appreciate the medical attention. Do you know how to use the supplies?”  

“Yes,” she said, watching as he walked towards her. “Sam taught me how to do basic field first aid after I got a bullet to my thigh.” Jasper frowned, her eyes narrowing incrementally as he got closer. “You were limping just now. Did you hurt your ankle?”

“My hip hit the riverbed a little harder than I anticipated,” he explained as he carefully lowered himself onto the couch.

“Oh. Will you be alright?”

“Eventually.”

She nodded slowly, her eyes locking onto his for a brief second. “Well,” she said after a moment, “we can start by cleaning out those abrasions on your face. You wouldn't want infection to set in.”

“Good idea.”

Humming softly in response, Jasper opened the medkit and pulled out some gauze and a bottle of antiseptic solution. The paladin watched as she soaked a few pads, keeping the rest off to the side. The knight scooted along the couch to close the gap between them, her knee gently pressing against his own.

“I’m going to drip some of this onto your cuts to flush them out,” the knight said softly, holding the wad of wet gauze in a cupped hand. He nodded once before leaning forward and turning his body to face hers.

Danse felt inexplicably nervous as she reached forward and gently gripped his jaw. Even through his gruff, blood-matted beard, he could feel the heat of her hand as she turned his head, pressing the soaked pad just beneath his eye. Her touch was gentle, almost hesitant, as she let the cold liquid trickle down his cheek, and although the paladin was anticipating the sting that usually came with first aid care, he couldn’t help the hiss that escaped his lips.

“Sorry,” she mumbled apologetically, moving to grab a few more pieces of gauze. Jasper let go of his chin and instead held the wet pad to his cheek while pressing the dry ones beneath the cut, absorbing the falling liquid.

They stayed in this position for a few more moments before the knight spoke again, removing the soiled bandage. “I'm going to wipe your cheek off. There’s quite a bit of dry blood on your skin. Sit still.”

Danse nodded and took a slow breath as she leaned forward with a fresh pad. The knight readjusted her position on the couch and, with pursed lips, resumed her work.

The paladin became acutely aware that this was the closest they’d ever been without being on a vertibird. He could practically feel her breath caress his face as the woman leaned in close to him; heat radiated off of her, intensifying every time her arm brushed against his own. The sweet scent of her soap wafted through the air whenever she moved. Mixed with the smell of sweat and metal from her power armour, he found it to be quite pleasant.

He felt his cheeks warm at the thought and, wanting to distract himself, he decided to ask about the photograph he’d spent much too long staring at earlier in the evening.

“About that picture,” he said, trying not to move his jaw too much. She glanced at him inquisitively without stopping her gentle ministrations, her brow twitching up. “The one with the couple on Bunker Hill.” He hesitated. “… Was that you?”

Jasper stopped mid-swipe, her eyes twitching from his cheek to his own. She bit her lip before slowly finishing her motion and setting the dirtied gauze on the table.

“Yes,” she answered slowly, moving away from the paladin. “We were visiting the monument for the first time as husband and wife.”

“Ah,” was his reply. The paladin had known it was her from the telltale stripe on her cheek, but the knight’s affirmation confirmed his suspicions. “So this was your home?”

“Yes,” she said. Her voice was low, hard. “It still is.”

“I’m going to suppose it’s why you chose to rest at this settlement, then?”

“Yes.”

The woman’s gaze was intense as she looked at him, a certain sadness darkening her eyes. Danse regretted asking questions; he wasn’t particularly fond of sharing personal information, and it wasn't fair that he should ask it of the knight. It felt intrusive.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, breaking eye contact. “I shouldn’t have asked about it.”

“No, it’s fine. Really,” she added at the look he shot her. Jasper heaved a small sigh and stood, picking up the used gauze from the table. “I’ll be right back. I need to get rid of this gauze, and go fetch something from my room.” She gave him a half-hearted smile before hurrying to the end of hallway, disappearing into a softly-lit room.

It didn’t take long before the knight reappeared, sliding the door shut behind her. She was holding a thick, leather-bound book of sorts, and as she made her way back to the living room, the gleam of binder rings caught the paladin’s eye. Curiosity made him frown, and as she sat back down next to him, setting the binder down on her thighs, he tilted his head as he stared at the blank cover.

“This is my photo album,” Jasper explained in response to his inquisitive look. She gave him a smile before opening the book to a page near the end. A few photos were displayed, captions and dates written in neat lettering beneath them on decorative stationery. One of them showed a newborn baby boy, a few stickers of stars and baseballs decorating the page around it.

“This was my son, Shawn,” the knight said wistfully, running the tips of her fingers across the baby’s perfectly preserved face. The boy was small in the arms that held him, a shock of dark hair crowning the child’s head. Danse noted that he had Jasper’s pouty lower lip and the same, straight nose. “He was just a few weeks old here.”

Jasper gave a soft, sad sigh, prompting Danse to look from the photograph to her. She was looking down at the nearly perfectly preserved memory of her son, a mixture of pain and adoration contorting her features into a sort of half-smile, half-frown. The knight’s pain was palpable, and not knowing what else to do, Danse put a hesitant hand on her shoulder.

“You’re not obligated to share this with me, soldier,” he said after a moment, letting his hand drop back down to his knee. She shook her head, taking a long, slow breath to steady her shaking voice.

“I was blessed with him, you know.” She continued speaking as if Danse hadn’t said anything. The paladin decided to listen not by obligation, but because he wanted to understand exactly what the knight was thinking, feeling. “As a first-time mom, I was terrified of what would come, and luckily, God decided to grace me with this wonderful baby boy.”

Jasper looked up at him with an intensity that he hadn’t seen before, her eyes alight with the passion that pushed her words. Setting her jaw, the knight looked directly into the paladin’s eyes, saying with emphatic conviction, “I need you to see this so you can know what I’m fighting for. I need you to see his face so you know why I’m dragging you into my hellish world.” Her grip tightened on the book, the protective plastic crinkling under her hands. “I need you to know that there’s someone real at the end of all this, and that if I want him back alive, I’m going to need your help.”

She paused, taking a breath to calm her slowly rising voice. Jasper’s grip relaxed on the album as she exhaled quietly, saying, “You told me back in Goodneighbour that you hated that I didn’t reveal my plans to you, so here we are. I’m giving you what you asked for.”

Shocked into silence, the paladin could do nothing but simply look at the knight, lips slightly parted.

Jasper held his gaze steadily as he attempted to formulate a response. Finally, after an embarrassing amount of time, the paladin managed, “I’m at a loss as to what to say. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” she replied softly, giving her head a slow shake. The knight laced her fingers together and rested her hands on the open photo album. She looked down at her hands and bit her lower lip before looking back up at the paladin, a look of shame on her features. “What I said to you in Goodneighbour… It wasn’t okay.”

_Oh, no._

He lowered his gaze, uncomfortable. The memory of what had transpired between the paladin and the knight made Danse feel uneasy, and attempting to come to terms with the reality of his emotions surrounding the incident only amplified the feeling. However, as humiliating as the situation was, the paladin swallowed his pride and, with a sigh, looked back up at the knight.

“We both said some distasteful things,” he began, choosing his words carefully. “I won’t say I didn't mean what I said, but I could have been more tactful in my choice of words.”

“I’m with you on that one,” Jasper muttered, nodding slowly. “You were right, Paladin. I really shouldn’t be keeping information from you if I really want your help.”

“And I shouldn’t be so hard on you,” he replied honestly. “You haven’t done anything specific to merit my distrust. I’m just… Unused to having such a steadfast and loyal companion. Tonight’s… Misfortunes have proven to me that I was wrong about many things.” He sighed before frowning, mostly at himself. He could feel the knight’s unwavering stare as he struggled to find the words to continue. He was always horrible at these kinds of things, and tonight was no different, it seemed.

“I suppose my insecurities ended up overtaking my discipline,” the paladin eventually said. When he finally looked back up at Jasper, she was looking at him with a pained look, her head slightly tilted.

As Danse observed her, he got the sense that the pain she was feeling was not for herself, but rather for him. It did not come off as the physical kind of pain, either, but rather a sense of helplessness, the same one would feel when faced with a situation that they had absolutely no control over. Although he knew that feeling well, Danse was confused as to where it may be coming from; her gaze, usually alert, was dim, the corners of her mouth turned down into a frown.

It was like this that she regarded the paladin as she carefully closed the photo album, stating sadly, “You know what I believe, Paladin? You’ve become so damaged that when someone tries to give you what you deserve, you have no idea how to respond.”

He felt whatever confidence he had gained crumble as the power of Jasper’s words hit him with full force, taking the metaphorical wind out from his sails. His immediate reaction was to deny everything, to put back up all the walls he'd let her vault over, but he concluded that as comfortable as that would be, it was absolutely pointless.

She was right.

If ever there was a moment that the paladin wished to be as proficient with his words as Proctor Quinlan, it was now. He could do nothing but look at the knight, once again at a complete loss.

It was the knight’s turn to place a soft hand on the paladin’s work-calloused one, squeezing softly as she said, “I don’t know what you’ve gone through, but I can promise you this: not everyone’s out to get you. Well, I’m not, anyway. That’s what the Institute’s for.”

Whether it was the culmination of an emotionally loaded night, or simply the fact that he was tired as all Hell, Danse couldn’t help the snort that escaped him, turning into a single chuckle that rumbled through his chest. His throat still hurt, and his cheek stung as his mouth stretched into a smile, but God damn did it feel good to let himself laugh.

“That’s an awful thing to joke about, Knight,” he said, raising a brow at her. She returned his smile with a sheepish one of her own.

“Hey, comedy stems from fear,” she stated, shrugging. “If we can’t laugh about the Boogeyman of the Commonwealth, then we’re already letting them win.”

Giving a slight nod, the paladin conceded her point, saying lightly, “You’re not wrong.”

Jasper gave his hand one last, reassuring squeeze before letting go with a small smile. She sighed deeply, holding the photo album to her chest as she looked past the paladin and down the hallway.

“We should really get to bed,” the knight as she failed to suppress a yawn. Danse watched as she stood,  nodding his agreement. “Your room is right across from mine. I had Codsworth get it ready while I patched you up.”

“And ready it is,” chirped the Mr. Handy from his spot in the kitchen. Danse had nearly forgotten the robot’s existence, glancing over at the robot before politely inclining his head.

“Thank you, Codsworth,” he said, pushing himself up from the sofa with a wince.

“No need to thank me, sir. It was an honour to prepare a room for Miss Jasper’s esteemed guest.”

Danse suppressed a laugh for what felt like the twentieth time that night. The robot’s eloquence never failed to amuse him, and although the paladin knew it was nothing but programming and data, it gave the robot a unique charm.

Giving Jasper an amused glance, Danse stepped forward and around the knight, brushing lightly against her as he squeezed himself through he space between her and the coffee table. Jasper followed him as the Mr. Handy guided them to the end of the hallway, raising one of its arms to motion at the room on the right.

“You’ll be sleeping here for the night, sir,” Codsworth said. “I trust you’re satisfied with the amenities?”

“Affirmative,” replied Danse, peeking around the robot’s silver chassis. A single-person bed was made, a rather flat pillow resting atop a surprisingly clean, fluffy-looking blanket. A bright yellow sheet poked through from beneath the comforter, little rockets and stars printed on the fabric. Though the bed was pleasant to look at, there was no telling what the mattress looked like; considering the state of some of the beds they had come across thus far, the paladin found that he held absolutely no desire to uncover what filth may be hidden.

“Excellent! Enjoy your night. I’ll be sure to have breakfast ready when you awaken!”

With a semblance of a bow, the unit puttered away, turning off the hallway light as it went.

 _What a strange robot,_ he thought to himself, turning to face the room. He hadn’t taken a step before he felt a hand on his arm, stopping him.

“Paladin,” Jasper said softly as he turned his head to look at her over his shoulder.

“Is something amiss?” he asked.

“No. Everything’s actually alright for once,” she answered, a small smile tugging at he corners of her lips. “I just… Wanted to thank you.”

Danse frowned. “For what?”

“For listening. And talking. I know it’s hard for you, but I want you to know that I appreciate it.”

“It had to be done,” he said dutifully. “We need to be able to communicate if we’re going to be working as a team.”

“Oh, are we a team now?” Jasper looked at him teasingly before laughing at the stern scowl he wore. “ _There’s_ the paladin I know. Goodnight, Danse.”

The paladin waited for her to have turned and slid the door shut behind her before rolling his eyes.

_She’ll be the death of you, Danse._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof.
> 
> As usual, comments are super appreciated~ Spot any mistakes? Let me know!


	15. Peppermint Patty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Archer's Peppermint Patty
> 
> \--> 8 oz. Hot chocolate  
> \--> 1 oz. Peppermint Schnapps  
> \--> 1 oz. Dark Creme de Cacao  
> \--> 1/4 oz. Creme de Menthe  
> \--> Whipped cream  
> \--> Chocolate shavings
> 
> Make hot chocolate. In a separate mug add Schnapps, Dark Creme de Cacao, and Creme de Menthe and stir. Top with hot chocolate and stir. Add whipped cream and sprinkle with chocolate shavings. (Optional, but not really: enter the DANGER ZONE!!!)

The day after they had arrived from their patrol, Ingram, who had received Danse’s suit of armour via airlift on the second day of their mission, had sent an angry summons to the pair. If solely going off of the frazzled scribe's demeanour and somber warning of her temper, Jasper was right to feel terrified.

As soon as they’d darkened the maintenance bay’s threshold, Ingram had given them absolute hell. Jasper, who was unused to the older woman’s sometimes crass way of speaking, had taken the verbal beating with as much grace as she could muster. Danse, on the other hand, hadn’t been as kind, retorting heatedly when he felt the proctor had gone too far with her assumptions.

After a particularly heated exchange between Danse and the older woman, Ingram towered over both knight and paladin as they stood in front of the terribly damaged power armour. The engineer glowered down at them as she held her arms crossed against her armoured chest.

“Next time,” the proctor growled with a tone of finality gracing her voice's edge, “don’t take your god damn power armour out while I’m working on it. Got it?”

Jasper’s head sank into her shoulders at Proctor Ingram’s words, toying with the tenser bandage on her wrist. “Yes ma’am,” Jasper said meekly, lowering her gaze with guilt boiling in her gut.

Danse, on the other hand, had to bite back a bitter retort, choosing instead to nod stiffly, grasping his hands tightly behind his back. “Roger that,” he said sternly. To his credit, he held the proctor’s glare steadily with a scathing look of his own, despite the equally harsh words he wished he could fling back at her.

“Good,” the auburn-haired woman said brusquely, giving each of them a singular look to show her disapproval. “Now go. I need to catch up on the work I’ve lost, and the weeks-worth you just gave me.”

With a final wave of her armoured hand, Ingram turned and immediately began barking orders at her engineering crew, the men and women scurrying to begin the tasks they were given. Danse let a low growl escape him as he turned briskly on his heel, quickly storming from the maintenance bay and out into the corridor. Jasper followed close behind, jogging lightly to keep pace with him.

“That was something,” she said once they were out of earshot, her voice still somewhat meek. Danse gave a sharp snort, his brows twitching up momentarily as he glanced balefully back toward the maintenance bay. “Remind me not to disobey her again,” she told him. “That was highly unpleasant.”

“You’re telling me,” the paladin replied grumpily. He had taken the brunt of Ingram’s anger and wasn’t keen on seeing anyone else for the rest of the day; in fact, he didn’t think he’d ever been more thankful for a leisure day in his entire career with the Brotherhood.

“Let’s go eat something before I turn back and say something I’ll regret,” he said moodily as he stepped into the mess hall. “At least chewing will keep my mouth busy.”

The knight gave a laugh, a small amused smirk lifting the corners of her mouth. “Sounds good,” she said, her tone a sight brighter than it had been since seeing Ingram. Danse returned her smile with an exasperated one of his own. “I’ll go get the food, you find us a table.”

“Roger that.”

Jasper went to the serving counter while the paladin scanned the area for an empty table. His eyes fell upon a couple of officers who were standing to leave, their serving trays in hand. He waited until they had left the area to hurry over to the table, dropping into one of the chairs with a grunt and relaxing into the seat. Danse ran a hand over his face, stopping only to absent-mindedly rub at the healing scrapes on his face.

Although they were healing quite nicely, small, light contusions were peppered across his cheek amidst the redness of his skin. The bruising around his neck, however, had worsened over the past few days, going from red and irritated to an ugly purple colour. It almost looked like he was wearing an undershirt in some places, and although they were tender to the touch, he was able to move his head without any pain.

His injuries had been the subject of many questions received upon their return, and even though Danse did not enjoy reliving the attack, he told the story of how they had come to be, the listeners usually responding with, ‘You must be proud of how Knight Cohen handled herself!’ Secretly, he _was_ proud of her; her progress, paired with her selflessness, made her one hell of a soldier, and Danse would be remiss if he couldn’t admit it to himself.

The sound of Jasper’s footsteps approaching him brought the paladin out of his thoughts, glancing up only when the knight was at their table.

“Military rations this morning,” she said unenthusiastically, setting a serving tray with nothing but a brown package and a glass of water in front of him. She gave him an almost apologetic look before sitting down with her own tray, wrinkling her nose in slight disgust at the packet before gingerly ripping it open, peeking inside. “Nate was never fond of these. Said they tasted like sand and plastic for the most part.”

“They’re…certainly less than pleasant,” Danse admitted, nodding once. “However, food is food, and I’d rather eat these than starve to death. Be thankful.”

The knight sighed dramatically before lifting the silver energy bar she had opened to her mouth and taking a bite. She grimaced and swallowed, shuddering. “Ugh. The package says strawberry, but my mouth says brahmin manure.”

Danse stared at her, raising a brow at her theatrics. “I don’t even want to know how you know what Brahmin manure tastes like, Knight,” he said without humour, opening his own ration while the knight gave another laugh.

They ate in silence for the most part, Jasper nibbling slowly at her food while Danse ate his quickly, downing his water once he was done. He said nothing as the knight slowly picked off her rations, one silver packet at a time; other than occasionally greeting a passing officer, the paladin did not say much until, out of the blue, the Pip-Boy on Jasper’s wrist gave a loud chirp, playing a short chip-tune version of some old song Danse couldn’t identify.

“What was that?” He asked with a frown, peering over at the device.

The knight shrugged, glancing at the paladin from beneath her eyebrows before looking down at the screen. She looked almost offended at her meal being interrupted, frowning as she set her food down and clicked a button to turn off the sound. Chewing more slowly now, she read whatever was on the screen and, with a soft sigh, dismissed the notification.

“What is it?” he asked once more, noticing her brows scrunch slightly as if she were in thought.

“It’s Christmas,” she mumbled, mouth still full. She looked back up at him and swallowed her bite of food. “I forgot to tell you.”

He rose a brow, setting down his empty glass. “Why would you need to tell me it’s Christmas?”

Jasper tilted her head, disbelief clear on her face. “Because it’s _Christmas_. Y’know, big dinners? Family? Showing appreciation for one another? Celebrating the birth of our Lord and Saviour?”

When Danse said nothing, she sighed and leaned back in her chair, again toying with the bandage wrapped around her wrist.

“Stop playing with that,” he said, frowning down at her hands. “It won’t get better if you keep touching it.”

“Before the bombs fell, Christmas was a big deal,” she explained instead, ignoring his reprimand. Jasper looked thoughtful, nostalgic even, as she attempted to gather her thoughts. “We would plan this big party. The whole family, moms, dads, cousins, aunts and uncles. Everyone would get together at someone’s home and celebrate. We would usually eat turkey with mashed potatoes, gravy, creamed carrots and peas, and end up drinking until we were all dancing to Christmas music.”

“That sounds lovely,” Danse said quietly.

“It was,” she said with a nod, keeping her eyes closed for a moment. “It was supposed to be Shaun’s first Christmas that year. He would have been six months old.”

The paladin looked down, lips pressed together in an uncomfortable frown. Whenever Jasper spoke of pre-war times, he always felt out of place, almost awkward; he could never find the appropriate responses, and it made him feel inadequate. With a soft sigh, Danse resigned himself to saying rather abashedly, “I’m sorry that got taken from you.”

“There’s no use in feeling sorry about it, Paladin,” Jasper said, giving a non-committal shrug as her eyes fluttered open. “I’m just going to have to make up for lost time when I get my son back.” The woman looked up from her hands, distantly staring down the hallway behind them. She stayed like this for a few seconds before refocusing her gaze on the paladin, locking her eyes with his own. “What about you? What was Christmas like for you and your family?”

“I didn’t have a family,” Danse answered immediately, ignoring the emptiness pooling in his chest. He watched her expression go from inquisitive to sad; he hated speaking of his childhood for that exact reason. He did not expect pity or sorrow from people, and yet that was all they seemed to feel regarding his past. However, as much as he despised the palpable sorrow radiating from the knight, he felt compelled to tell her about his childhood.

It was the least he could do.

 “I lived in the ruins of what was Washington, D.C.,” he continued, straightening his posture. “My father wasn’t around long enough for me to remember him, and my mother died when I was young. I had no siblings, either. We were poor, always living off of whatever caps my parents could make by selling scrap. Once I was alone, I did all the scavenging myself. I never really had a reason to celebrate Christmas.”

“…oh,” she whispered after a long pause. “So, you’ve never actually had a Christmas dinner? Or a gift?”

“No.”

Jasper chewed her lower lip, expression thoughtful. After a moment, her face lit up, excitement glimmering in her eyes. “We’re going to Diamond City.”

Danse eyed her warily, taken aback by the sudden mood change. “What?”

“We’re going to Diamond City! I’m going to treat you to Christmas dinner.” She paused, thinking over her statement before correcting herself, “Well, lunch.”

“We have reports to file, Knight,” came his incredulous reply. “We can’t just leave because of some old pre-war tradition.”

She gave him a look then, raising a brow. “It’s our leisure day, on top of it being Christmas. I’m not letting you go anywhere _near_ those reports,” Jasper said with much more authority than she had.

Before Danse had time to admonish her for her tone, the woman stood abruptly, leaning over the table as she stared into his eyes. “We’re going. No arguments.”

-oOo-

As they walked up the long flight of stairs to the ancient stadium entrance, Jasper told the paladin a little about the structure, how it was home to nationally broadcasted games of something called “baseball.” She told him of the few times she had been able to scrape enough money together as a student to come watch a game, and, with heavy disdain clear in her words, of the exorbitant prices of concession stands.

“It was around twenty-five pre-war dollars for a hot dog. A _hot dog_ ,” she lamented with a curt, frustrated sigh. “We only paid about fifteen dollars for a pack of twelve wieners at Super Duper Mart.”

Although Danse did not understand the value of pre-war money -- much less what the cultural significance of a “hot-dog” was -- he nodded politely, trying desperately not to show his cluelessness.

In truth, the man barely understood her entire rant, but there was no way he would admit to that.

When Jasper reached the top of the concrete stairway, the woman a few yards ahead of him, the knight stopped with a loud, excited gasp, a hand darting up to cover her mouth.

Before Danse had the chance to ask about her sudden reaction, she exclaimed, “Oh, it’s _beautiful!_ Come see!”

Intrigued, the paladin jogged up the last few stairs, took a look down and stared in awe at the city below.

Diamond City was usually a rather drab, grey place, the only pop of colour being the green metal barrier that the residents affectionately called The Wall; buildings were nothing more than repurposed train carts, reinforced with either metal sheeting or, in the case of residences, salvaged bricks and cinderblocks held together with cement. The streets were paved with wooden pallets and boards sunken into the muddy earth, the paint and wood worn down after years of people taking the same paths. An industrial generator loomed in the middle of the market, black smoke bellowing from its smokestack as the ever-present rumbling gave the city its heartbeat.

Today, however, the city had been covered in strings of twinkling, colourful lights, illuminating previously darkened corners in an oddly coloured sheen from the overcast glow of daylight, further shining as the colours reflected on everything remotely reflective. Small wooden tree cut-outs decorated street junctions and corners, baubles and stars adorning the crudely painted branches. The various eye bots that lazily hovered along the streets were playing cheerful music, the current singer crooning something about white Christmases.

It was rather strange, seeing the sudden colour permeating the usually-grey city, but a nice strange.

“It’s quite a view,” Danse said, quietly marvelling at the sight.

Jasper threw him a delighted smile before rushing down the stairs, waving the paladin along with a loud exclamation of, “Come on!”

The man followed, shuddering against the chilly breeze that swept over the settlement. He was wearing nothing but his orange flight suit and a few pieces of Brotherhood-issue armour: after their patrol, he refused to leave the airport without some sort of protection, their run-in with the raiders having reminded Danse exactly why he preached constant vigilance. He did not want to be caught unprepared again, knowing they had been incredibly lucky in their encounter a few days prior.

Jasper, however, seemed unphased in the cold even in her blue vault suit. The paladin had protested against her wearing it at all since it violated too many Brotherhood regulations, but she insisted that it was the only thing that was comfortable to wear anymore since she had lost so much weight, and with a final sigh and shrug, Danse had conceded.

It seemed to help in this situation, seeing as how the paladin’s attire drew stares and whispers as they made their way to the busy marketplace, his bright orange jumpsuit almost a beacon drawing the residents' attention. Some were curious, others wary; he expected little more from these people, seeing as the security officers stationed throughout the city wore no more armour than overly-padded chest pieces and helmets with the occasional baseball bat draped in their arms. These civilians were more than likely unused to the presence of heavily armoured, rifle-wielding soldiers marching along their streets.

Thankfully, the shopkeepers seemed to care very little about what kind of people walked in front of their shops, so long as their wares or services were being noticed in one way or another. Some completely ignored the duo, continuing to converse happily with the patrons lured in by this sale or that, while others boasted loudly of the quality that their services offered, as was the case with a particularly boisterous barber located in an open-air shop attempting to wave down the paladin.

Briefly, the paladin considered paying him a visit: his hair _was_ getting a bit longer than he usually liked it, and although he was capable of trimming his own hair and beard he wouldn’t mind a professional's touch.

A gentle touch on his upper arm brought his attention back to Jasper, who was looking up at him with raised brows.

“Welcome back,” she said, a hint of a laugh biting the heel of her words. “I asked if you were hungry, but you seemed a little distracted.” Her eyes glanced over to the barber shop, to whom she gave the barber a wide smile when she caught his attention.

“The barber sounds enticing,” he explained simply, frowning lightly as he looked back at the well-groomed young man. Danse looked back down at her after a moment with a small shrug. “But, food sounds good. Where are we going?”

“John is actually quite good,” she said. “He cut my hair the first time I came to Diamond City back in October. As for food,” she added, bringing her gaze back up to him, “we have two choices. First, there’s the Dugout Inn, where they serve bland, goopy stew.”

“Not that we’re used to that,” muttered Danse with contempt, earning a snort from the knight.

“ _Or_ ,” she continued with a smirk, “we go pay a visit to Power Noodles.” The knight jerked her thumb over her shoulder, pointing to a protection-class robot behind a counter. A bright neon sign above the serving counter flashed the words _Power Noodles_. “Takahashi makes a mean bowl of noodles. And,” she added in an exaggerated, conspiratorial whisper, “he actually uses _spices_.”

Danse resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “I’ll take the noodles.”

“Good, because if you’d have chosen the bland food, I would have had to—”

A shout interrupted the knight, who gave a start and looked around Danse. Her expression changed quickly from teasing to horror, then to one of recognition. Mildly alarmed, the paladin turned just in time to see a red blur fly past him and towards Jasper. A woman wearing a long red coat and a matching news cap ran past him and nearly tackled his subordinate to the ground in a crushing hug.

“Blue! You’re back,” the stranger shouted as she constricted the knight in her arms, the latter returning the hug as best as she could without toppling over.

“Hi Piper,” Jasper choked out, patting the other woman on the back as she gave Danse an apologetic glance through the other woman’s shoulder length hair. Piper gave the knight one final squeeze before pulling away, a bright smile plastered on her face.

“It’s so good to see you! You never came back after that whole crazy situation with that Kellogg guy. Nick had to fill me in. What have you been up to, anyway? You look _fantastic!_ ”

The rapid barrage of questions continued, the black-haired woman barely giving Jasper the time to answer; her tone changed with each question fired, some accusatory while others were genuinely concerned. Piper gestured wildly with her hands as she spoke, Jasper looking more and more discouraged by the second as she attempted to process the interrogation.

 Only when one of Piper’s hands finally collided with the metal chest piece of his armour did she turn her attention from Jasper to the paladin, her laser focus burning as she gave him an eerily silent yet superiorly critical once-over.

“And who are _you?_ ” she asked after a moment, placing her hands on her hips as her green eyes bored into his.

“Paladin Danse, Brotherhood of Steel,” he answered rigidly, straightening his posture. He held her scrutiny with as much seriousness as he could muster, setting his jaw and steeling his expression.

Piper gave him a sharp look, tilting her head.

“What are you doing here, _Paladin_ Danse?”

“Visiting.”

“That’s all? No super big secret conspiracies you’re looking into?” Her eyebrows raised as her hands raised at the word ’conspiracies,’ her eyes widening almost comically if her words weren't dripping with venom.

“No. I--”

“No questioning of the locals against their will?”

“ _No._ We--”

Her eyes narrowed, crossing her arms across her chest as she scoffed angrily. “If you’re not doing that, then why is the Brotherhood in the Commonwealth in the first place?”

“We’re not at liberty to discuss that with you, civilian,” he stated sharply, unable to find much more than that to (politely) say to her.

“’We’? We as in your organization, or are you not alone in Diamond City? Should the denizens of this fine city be worried about ’ _your_ ’ presence?” She used her fingers to signify quotes at ’your,’ her eyes narrowing further as she grilled the man.

Danse bristled at her words, finally giving in to the mounting irritation in his chest. “What are you insinuating?” he said, tone hard.

“Nothing,” Piper replied snarkily, keeping her hands up but in a more relaxed fashion now. “I’m just trying to get a beat on you, with your fancy airship and suits of Power Armour. If you were _really_ here to ‘protect the people of the Commonwealth,’ as you so boldly stated when you kind of barged into our lives, shouldn’t you be out there fighting synths? Taking down the Institute? Protecting technology or whatever it is you claim you do for mankind?”

“O- _kay_ Piper, that’s enough,” Jasper finally interjected, grabbing the woman’s shoulder firmly. The knight gave Danse a look that said, _Calm down_ and, _I'll handle this_ in more ways than one. “Paladin Danse is here with me, Pipes. I brought him here to celebrate Christmas, seeing as he’s never had one.”

At this, the woman’s entire demeanour relaxed. “Oh,” she said far too innocently for her previous attitude, giving a noncommittal shrug. “I guess I got a little ahead of myself for a moment.”

“You don’t say,” Danse said coolly, readjusting his stance. Jasper shot him another look, but returned instantly to Piper's gaze.

“I apologize then,” Piper said, looking from Jasper to Danse. The smaller woman extended her hand, looking up at the paladin with a storm brewing in those green orbs. “My name’s Piper Wright. I’m sort of the only journalist left in the Commonwealth. I write and publish the local newspaper, _Publick Occurrences_ , for the truth no one seems to want to look for.”

Pressing his lips together in a thin line, Danse took her hand and shook it. Her grip was firm, confident, assured. He liked that.

“I’ve already told you my name, but it’s nice to formally meet you,” he said as politely as he could, keeping his tone neutral.

“No, it’s not,” Piper said with a laugh, letting go of his hand. “You can be honest with me, soldier boy, I can take it. I was on your case harsher than a blood bug swarm on a brahmin.”

“Kind of comes with the territory,” Jasper quipped with a smile. Piper gave a sheepish smile of her own, adjusting the fingerless gloves she wore as she rocked back on the balls of her feet, looking about.

“So, what’s the plan?” the journalist asked, glancing from the paladin to Jasper.

“We were just about to go eat some noodles, as suggested by Knight Cohen,” Danse answered.

“ _Knight_ Cohen?” Piper stared at Jasper, her eyes saucer-sized; the knight closed her eyes briefly, then sighed, the tension clear in her posture.

“Yeah, about that…”

The knight launched into an explanation, the other woman listening intently, her arms crossed over her chest like a mother listening to a child's wrongdoings. Not wishing to take part in the conversation any more than he had been, Danse instead turned around, curiously looking about him at the various other shops. One in particular caught his attention, one that went by the name of Commonwealth Weaponry. A dark-skinned, black-haired man manned the shop, cheerfully announcing to whoever would listen that his weapons were nothing but the best.

His interest piqued, the paladin began walking towards the brightly-painted stall, only to be stopped a few short yards in by Jasper’s shout.

“Hey,” she called out. Quelling his annoyance at her lack of formality when addressing him, especially in a civilian centre, he turned and looked at her wordlessly. “Where are you going? Food, remember?”

“You seemed busy,” he replied, begrudgingly making his way back to the pair of women. Piper shrugged while his knight bit her lower lip.

“Well, we’re not anymore,” the journalist said in an overly cheerful tone. Piper turned on her heel and made her way directly to the counter, jumping onto a barstool and leaning over exaggeratedly. “Hey, Tak! Make us three bowls, would ya?”

Both knight and paladin exchanged a look, the knight giving a shrug as if to say, _That’s Piper for you_. Danse sighed before following the journalist over and slipping onto a seat, folding his hands in his lap as they waited for their food.

To Danse’s surprise, Takahashi’s food was delicious, and very satisfying. Both women had a laugh when Danse attempted (and failed) to properly use the chopsticks given to them by the protectron, eventually giving up and requesting a fork. Otherwise, conversation was plentiful, what with Piper leading most of them; she asked many questions, most of which the paladin either avoided or shot down, much to the woman’s growing frustration. Eventually giving up altogether on the stubborn man, she turned her focus on Jasper, who was delighted to discuss mundane subjects he had not been.

Danse, who remained mostly quiet throughout the remainder of the meal, learned a few more tidbits about his knight’s past as he ate. He listened when she told a story of when her and her late husband were almost caught sneaking into a baseball game; how she had had to sell her car to be able to afford her apartment while in college; how that when she learned she was pregnant with her son, her husband had thrown her a party with a few close friends and family.

“It was completely unnecessary,” she was saying with a laugh. “But, he was so excited to be a father. It was boring for me, seeing as I couldn’t enjoy the wine he had pulled out. I found out around Christmas, now that I think about it.”

“That’s a pretty nice gift to receive,” Piper said, setting down her chopsticks.

Jasper nodded, swallowing a quick mouthful. “It was. Which is kind of ironic, given my current situation. I had a lot to celebrate that year.”

“It sounds like you had a wonderful Christmas,” Danse said, swallowing his last mouthful of carrot bits.

“Hark! The armoured man speaks,” Piper quipped, countering his scowl with a smirk. “But I agree with you. Blue here seemed to have a much better time around the holidays than us poor wastelanders.”

“I’m not a wastelander,” Danse said, stone faced. “Why do you call her Blue?”

“When I first met her, she was wearing her vault suit,” the journalist explained, Jasper nodding next to her. “I kind of strong-armed her into forcing the mayor to let me back into the city. Since then, the nickname just stuck, I guess.”

“That was probably the best introduction to someone I’d ever had,” Jasper said with a chuckle. The knight sighed in satisfaction, dropping her utensils into her empty bowl. “Takahashi’s noodles always hit the spot. How did you enjoy your meal, Paladin?”

“I’m surprised at how good it was,” he admitted. “I didn’t know protectrons knew how to cook. My only concern is the one sentence it keeps repeating. Is it badly programmed, or a glitch of some sort?”

“Nah, Tak’s just his own brand of special,” answered Piper, the woman stretching. The journalist glanced towards Takahashi, who was now scrubbing a pot with precise, calculated motions as its motors thrummed quietly. “He can cook, so people don’t really care. Plus, the one sentence thing makes him super predictable, and people around here really aren’t opposed to that concept.”

“Interesting,” said Danse, giving the protectron one last glance. Deciding he was done with sitting about and talking, the paladin slid off his stool, glancing back towards the barber shop. “I think I’m going to indulge in that haircut, now.”

“Go for it,” said Jasper as she stood as well, stretching lightly. “You deserve a bit of pampering.” She smiled warmly at him. “I’ll pay for lunch, then Piper and I will take a walk around the marketplace in the meantime. Enjoy yourself, okay?”

“Roger that.”

Ignoring the raised brow look of amusement Piper gave him at his words, the paladin turned and made his way to the shop. When close enough, he was greeted by a grey-haired woman who, despite her stern appearance, had quite a jolly disposition.

“Hi there,” she called out, smiling widely. “Can we interest you in a haircut today?” The young man, John as Jasper had called him, stood behind a comfortable-looking wooden chair, leaning against the back of it as he curiously watched Danse approach.

The paladin nodded, giving the woman a small smile. “Affirmative,” he answered, taking care not to trip on the small wooden ledge of the shop. “Do you also offer grooming services? My beard’s a little unruly as of late.” As he spoke, he tenderly touched the gruff on the bottom of his chin, running his fingers along it slowly as he looked directly at John.

“I can do just about anything with a straight razor,” John answered jovially, walking around the chair to stand before Danse. He dusted his hands, looking at the paladin hopefully. “Does this mean you’re in for the luxury treatment today, Mister, uh…” His gaze dipped to the flight suit before returning to Danse's eyes.

“Danse,” the paladin finished.

“Mister Danse,” the younger man repeated boldly, looking to the older woman for a moment before extending his hand to the paladin. Danse took it, giving it a short but firm shake. Was everyone in this city confident? “So, a trim and a bit of a shave, right?”

“Yes.”

“Perfect! Just sit in the chair, and we’ll get started. You won’t regret it!”

With that, Danse was escorted to the chair and, after making sure he was comfortable, John began his work.

The young man’s hands were gentle in their ministrations, his movements were deft and precise despite the speed he went at. As the young man worked at Danse’s hair, he began asking Danse questions about his livelihood and his time in the Commonwealth so far, his tone still bold yet in a more conversationalist volume. They discussed mundane subjects such as the weather, what Danse was doing in Diamond City, and how he had come to hear of the barber shop.

The barber went on to talk about his few times venturing out into the wastes, and how thankful it had made him for the security that Diamond City provided. Eventually, the conversation turned to weapons, and the paladin found himself explaining why he favoured energy weapons over traditional ballistic ones.

“Yeah, it’s a cleaner shot, but there’s nothing quite like smelling the gunpowder after firing a .44,” John stated whimsically as he leaned in close, snipping at Danse’s bangs.

“The smell of ozone is much more satisfying,” the paladin countered, closing one eye in reflex as hair fell onto his face. “It’s like you’ve shot a tiny thunderstorm from the end of your rifle. It’s invigorating.”

“I can’t argue that,” John said with a laugh, brushing the clippings gently from Danse's cheek.

 John gave his head a once-over before moving on to his facial hair, the conversation going quiet for a moment before Danse asked, watching as the younger man worried over his tools, “So why hair?”

“Oh, boy, that's certainly a story,” the woman interjected, a laugh on her lips.

John gave her a flushed look before explaining to the paladin while lathering up his face, “It's just what my family does; we do hair, just as you're a soldier.”

Danse listened quietly as the two picked stories back and forth to tell him, content with letting the young man ramble as he let himself relax. Even with the press of the straight razor against his bruised throat from a stranger, he felt safe and, most importantly, relieved when the young man did not question him about his injuries.

With a final flourish, John patted an old towel against the paladin's face before stepping away, examining his work with a critical eye. Seemingly satisfied, he set down his straight razor and handed Danse a small handheld mirror.

“Take a look and tell me what ya think,” John said, smiling broadly. Straightening himself up in the chair, the paladin glanced at himself, turning his head from side to side.

“Impressive,” Danse said, admiring the sharp outline of his beard. “I couldn’t have done a better job. Thank you.” Handing the mirror back to the barber, the paladin stood, running a hand through his new, much shorter hair. “How much do I owe you?”

“It’s my pleasure, Mr. Danse,” the young man said, beaming with pride. “That’ll be twenty-five caps. Fifteen for the haircut, and ten for the beard.”

A quick exchange of caps later – and a bit of protesting against the tip the paladin insisted John take– Danse stepped out of the makeshift salon, giving one last wave to the young man and his mother. Readjusting his chest piece, Danse took a look around to see if he could find Jasper. Though it hadn't been more than an hour since he stepped into the shop, she could be anywhere in this old settlement.

It did not take long for him to spot her, however: she was a sight taller than most of the residents bustling about the market, and, even slightly faded, her cobalt jumpsuit was just as much of a beacon as his orange was.

She and Piper were standing near Power Noodles again, chatting away. Her laugh carried to him through the constant buzzing of the crowd in the market, and despite his usual restraint, he found himself staring at her.

Her smile, although not a rare sight, was usually warm and kind; as Jasper laughed with Piper, however, it seemed almost as bright as the twinkle lights hanging above them. Her eyes, usually so alert and attentive, were showing genuine interest in what the lively journalist had to say. The woman out of time was relaxed, comfortable even, which was something she seemed to lack while in the presence of Brotherhood personnel, himself included.

Frankly, it made the paladin a little sad, but he supposed it couldn’t be helped.

Sighing almost imperceptibly, the paladin stowed away his emotions and made his way towards the pair of women, holding himself as rigidly as he could against the people that bumped into him. When Jasper noticed him moving towards her, her smile widened and she waved, Piper interrupting her own speech just to look at him.

“You look good, Paladin,” the knight said as he reached them. She tilted her head, pursing her lips as she assessed him. “The short hair suits you.”

“Thank you,” he said with a smile. “John did good work. I will definitely recommend him to the others back at the base.”

“Told ya,” Jasper said, a smug little smirk dancing on her lips. She sighed softly, glancing at Piper before saying dejectedly, “Does this mean we have to go back?”

“If you’ve concluded your business here, yes. We’re expected back by mess.”

Another sigh. “Alright,” she said as she turned to fully face her friend, readjusting a small bag that hung from her wrist.

“So, I guess you’re leaving again, huh,” the journalist said flatly, eyeing the knight. Jasper nodded, earning a small sigh and a shrug from the black-haired woman. “I guess it’s not all that bad, Blue. I need to edit the next issue of _Publick Occurrences_ anyway, and gallivanting around with you distracts me.” Jasper scoffed slightly, a smile gracing her saddened lips. “The truth never rests, after all, and I get to be the poor sap that chases it wherever it goes.”

“Journalism won’t know what hit it,” the knight agreed.

Piper gave a laugh, shaking her head. The journalist dragged Jasper into another tight hug, insisting that the knight keep in touch, and to “not disappear off the face of the Earth this time.” Once the promise was made and the shorter woman reassured, the women separated and, with a final nod at the paladin, Piper turned and made her way to a silver building at the bottom of the city’s entrance.

“She’s something, isn’t she,” the knight said wistfully as she watched her friend retreat, hugging her elbows to her torso. As Piper disappeared into the building, Jasper looked up at the paladin, eyes soft. “How did you enjoy your Christmas?”

“It was pleasant,” he replied.

The knight gave him a look then, looking slightly crestfallen. “That’s it? Pleasant?”

Danse shifted as he noticed her expression. “I enjoyed it,” he insisted sincerely. “It was the best Christmas I’ve ever had the pleasure to celebrate. Definitely the best damn meal I’ve had in months, anyhow. I have you to thank for that,” he added softly, looking down at her with a small smile. “I wouldn’t have given the date a second thought otherwise.”

Her smile turned gentle, her eyes regarding him warmly. “You deserve it for putting up with me. And,” she added brightly, “as a thank you for doing just that, I got you a Christmas gift.”

Danse blinked, looking down at the dangling bag she clung to protectively. “You didn’t have to,” he said, his cheeks warming. “Your progress as a soldier is thanks enough.”

Jasper rolled her eyes at him, reaching into the bag stubbornly. She pulled out a small wooden box, just large enough to fit in her hand, and held it out to him. “Take it,” she said, raising her brows in a pointed look. When the paladin didn’t immediately reach for the gift, she gave an exasperated sigh. “ _Take it_ , Danse.”

The paladin eyed the box warily before slowly reaching out and taking it, turning it over in his gloved hands. It was lightweight, and made no noise when he moved it around. Giving the excited knight one last curious look, he gingerly pried it open, hesitating just a moment before glancing down.

On a cushion of soft white material lay a fine-tuned beam focusing modification piece for laser rifles. Without even picking it up out of its container, the paladin could tell it was well-made; the part was expertly crafted, and the paint was flawless.

“I figured you missed _Righteous Authority_ ,” Jasper began as she moved to stand next to him, her body pressing against his as she peeked at the gift. “Arturo has never steered me wrong when it comes to weapons, and soon as I mentioned you having a stock laser rifle, this was what he recommended.”

Unsure of how to react to this intimate gesture, the paladin gently closed the box, thumbing the soft wood grain of the container.

The longer he remained silent, the more nervous Jasper became.

Pulling away from his side, she questioned, "Is there something wrong with it?"

Looking to her, his eyes wide and his tongue like cotton, he finally found the breath to say, "This is... beyond anything I could've thought of."

Jasper didn't look very convinced, her brow furling just slightly at the bridge of her nose. Before she could utter what he knew she had brewing the back of her throat, Danse placed a heavy hand on her shoulder and gave a tight squeeze, trying to push all of the emotions that welled inside of him into that gesture as he met her eyes. "Thank you, Jasper."

She mulled over his words for a moment before leaning into his hand, placing her own over his and giving a sincere squeeze. “Merry Christmas,” she said, her cheeks reddening.

“Merry Christmas.”

They stood like this for a moment, her hand on his; her golden gaze locked onto his and, for the first time since meeting her, his heart seemed to skip a beat when he looked into her eyes.

The warmth of her hand on his suddenly became overbearing, even through the thin glove he wore, as an emotion the paladin couldn’t identify mounted in his chest the longer he looked at her. Feeling the heat creep back up to his already reddened cheeks, Danse cleared his throat and took his hand away from her shoulder, her own dropping back down to her side.

“We should get going, Knight,” he said, his voice a little gruffer than he would have liked. He only spoke again once he was sure his voice was steady, thankful that he managed to bring his tone back to something a little more professional: “They’ll be expecting us back soon, and the last thing we want to do is upset Kells. Or Elder Maxson, for that matter.”

Jasper nodded, looking up defeatedly at the metal staircase leading out of the city. “Roger that,” she sighed, giving him one last smile before stepping around him and making her way to the exit.

The paladin did not follow her immediately, choosing to watch her slowly walk away. His brow lightly furrowed, Danse took a look down at the box in his hands, his grip tightening in time with an overwhelming swell of emotions. Exhaling a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding, he took one last glance at Diamond City’s twinkling lights before following the knight.

Maybe Christmas was worth celebrating after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Such. A long. Chapter.
> 
> Anyways, for waiting a little longer than usual for an update, here's a happy little interlude in which Danse's heart starts to beat again. They deserve some happiness.
> 
> As always, comments are super appreciated~ I hope you guys enjoy this one, as I enjoyed writing it.


	16. The Green Fairy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Green Fairy (or Absinthe, Absinthiana)
> 
> \--> 1 - 1 1/2 oz Absinthe  
> \--> 4 - 6 oz water  
> \--> 1 sugar cube  
> \--> Glass  
> \--> Absinthe spoon
> 
> Pour Absinthe into glass. Place Absinthe spoon over the glass. Place the sugar cube on the spoon. Slowly trickle 4 to 6 oz of water over sugar cube into glass. After Absinthe louches up (gets cloudy), dump sugar into glass and use Absinthe spoon to break down and dissolve it. Drink slowly.

Danse felt a shudder course through him as the haze of the Glowing Sea loomed over the horizon, growing steadily taller the closer their vertibird flew. The area just before the wall of residual radiation was vast, almost endless in appearance; the dense fog seemed impenetrable, the light of the sun turning the air around it a sickly green.

It was here he realized it truly deserved its moniker of 'sea.'

Two weeks of intensive training had led them up to this moment, focusing mostly on power armour usage and exercises to improve both strength and agility. Jasper had suffered most, being unused to such training; but, she had pulled through beautifully and, whether he would admit it or not, had thoroughly impressed the paladin with how much she had improved.

As much as they had attempted to prepare, however, it did not stop the feeling of dread that Danse was attempting to quell. From her place beside him, he heard Jasper swallow hard as if she held similar thoughts to the paladin, and, for a moment, he was brought back to when he and his squad had marched into the Commonwealth for the first time.

They had avoided the Sea entirely by going west and then coming down from the north, cutting through the thick, dead brush of the ancient forests just outside the Sea's grasp. Scribe Haylen had had a field day with the new areas they passed through, exploring nearly every building they came across and noting everything of importance on a map she had insisted they bring along. The few settlers and caravans they encountered while exploring this Brotherhoodless territory had warned them of the dangers of the radioactivity of the south, explaining briefly to his team that anyone who entered the Glowing Sea was never seen again.

Danse remembered Knight Keane’s interest in exploring the supposed death trap, excitement lighting his otherwise solemn face as the challenge was brought forward. After arguing with reluctant teammates and a final determination from the paladin that the Sea was not their goal in this wasteland, the man had relented, mumbling something about them being “pussies” and “no fun.” Danse had pulled him aside then, mentioning sternly to a now subdued knight that the “no fun” rule was put into place to keep them alive.

There was something ironic, if not a little melancholic, in the mission they were undertaking now: the one man whom Danse knew would have voluntarily joined them, who would have left the Prydwen with nothing but a flight suit just for the opportunity to _see_ the Glowing Sea, now rested in the ground, buried in a field near a lonely creek.

The paladin was brought out of his thoughts when he stumbled forward, realizing a little too late that the aircraft had landed. Jasper, who was standing in the alcove next to his, stayed steady, both hands clutching onto the handles that hung from the vertibird’s roof. He saw her turn her head to look at him, the dull, green daylight reflecting off of her helm’s visor. He didn’t have to see her face to know that she was scared.

And, now facing the Sea, he realized that he was, too.

With a soft sigh, Danse shifted his weight uneasily as the lancer pilot cut the vertibird’s engines, giving the paladin a nod and a quick thumbs up. With the go-ahead, he jumped out of the vehicle, landing on the burnt ground with a loud thud.

It took only a few steps to reach the waypoint Maxson had set up, where a heavily armoured scribe tended to a radio beacon, fiddling with the ham radio's various knobs and sliders, while a few knights stood vigilant around the scribe's small workstation. Beyond the team's clearing, blasted trunks and stumps littered the sparse plains with steep, rocky cliffs towering over their small encampment off a few dozen meters, the outcropping's silent face an ominous reminder of where he and Jasper were about to step foot into.

The scribe, a man by the name of Mason that Danse recognized from Ingram’s crew, turned to face the approaching paladin, frowning against the glare of a restored construction light pointed at the station.

“Welcome to Waypoint Echo, Paladin,” he greeted. Mason waited until Jasper had caught up to the paladin, the woman standing next to her superior with palpable nervousness emanating from her suited form before he continued. “We will be your point of contact throughout this mission. Lancer Morrison will be staying with us until your return, as well as making routine air patrols for any sign of distress. Knight Cohen,” he added, looking directly at Jasper, “be aware that the fog will impair visibility of your signal grenades. You must use more than one so we can spot it through the haze.”

“Understood,” was her curt reply, giving her head a slight nod.

Mason gave a strained smile. “Proctor Ingram and I have taken the liberty of setting your helms to pick up this specific radio frequency,” he continued, waving a hand vaguely at the beacon behind him. “We don’t know how much the radiation will interfere with the signal, so I’m advising you not to rely too much on it.”

“So, it may not even work at all,” Danse interpreted, his voice flat. He was glad Scribe Mason couldn’t see his expression; the paladin was glaring at the man, severely unimpressed with how their odds were looking.

“Don’t tell Ingram I said this, but I think it’s a useless waste of tech,” the scribe said with a defeated shrug. “We are deaf, dumb, and blind when it comes to the Glowing Sea, and until we can establish what we are up against, we’re facing a nameless beast.”

“That makes us akin to Scribe Neriah’s mole rats,” Jasper said, practically spitting the words out in disgust. “Guinea pigs used for experimentation.”

The scribe turned to look at the woman, his demeanor calm yet terminal. “Essentially, yes.” Mason gave a quick sigh, looking from the knight to the paladin almost apologetically. “Just be cautious, officers. We would absolutely hate to lose you.”

“That’s the second time someone’s said that to us today, but I'm finding it hard to believe the sentiment at this point,” huffed the knight, punctuating her sentence with a heavy sigh. She turned away from the scribe, instead facing the cliffs.

“Believe what you want, Knight, but we need to go, for more reasons than one,” Danse stated, his tone hard. Jasper didn't reply, giving him another yet softer sigh as a response.

With that, he took a moment to steel his resolve before saying commandingly, “Let’s move out.”

“Yes, sir.”

A final look was offered to the paladin from Mason before Danse began marching toward the jagged rocks, their first hurdle of the mission. He scanned the cliff side for what felt like an eternity, looking for a path that would accommodate their power armour. When he finally found one that seemed promising, he motioned Jasper to follow him, telling her to stay close behind, not wanting to waste any more time.

This was going to be a gruelling expedition, and the sooner it was over the better.

They began the hike up the outcropping, hyper-aware of their footing as they climbed. Even though Danse was a seasoned soldier with years of training and experience in these suits, the climb was not easy: rock crumbled beneath the weight of their armour, gauntleted fingers failing to grip the rock properly when they needed a boost up the sometimes-vertical path. Jasper slipped partway down the cliff more than once, unwittingly divulging to the paladin just how colourful her vocabulary could be as she slowly regained the lost ground.

Relief swept over the paladin once he set foot at the top, glad to finally have a steady stance. His suit’s Geiger counter was clicking steadily in time with his breathing, the counter's soft beat a mere foreshadowing of the radiation to come.

His relief was with short-lived, however, as a heavy sense of dread filled the paladin when he turned to fully face the vast, empty expanse of unknown territory that lay ahead. This was the void he had witnessed in the vertibird, and it made him feel even smaller as he stood at the Glowing Sea's threshold.

Jasper stepped beside him, her breath hitching in her throat as she stared at the emptiness before them. After a moment of utter silence, the knight spoke, her voice trembling.

“I don’t think I can do this,” she said, just loudly enough for the paladin to hear. She sounded terrified, almost tearful. The paladin felt a pang of irrational anger at her words, turning to face her with a hard expression that although lay concealed beneath the mask was in full force in his words.

“Don’t you dare,” Danse said darkly, jabbing at the air between them. “Don’t you _even_ think about backing down now, soldier. We didn’t work as hard as we did to turn tail and head home at the first sign of trouble.”

“I’m scared, Paladin,” she retorted, her voice small. “This all feels impossible.”

“What felt impossible was being given an entire state to canvass without any concrete information of its people or landscape, _nothing_ with me but seven men and no means of communication.” He swept his hands before him. “Yet, here I am.”

Jasper stayed silent, turning her head to look at him. Danse disliked the lack of facial expression, but from past experience, he knew she was evaluating his words, more than likely anxiously nibbling at her lower lip.

“We’ve got a plan, Knight,” he pressed, suppressing a sigh. “We have plenty of ways to communicate with our brothers and a safeguard, should we need it.” He wanted to place a hand on her shoulder, for comfort or maybe to push the point home, but he ignored the urge and instead stated, “We’re not alone. _You’re_ not alone. Do you understand me, Knight?”

“Yes,” she replied, sounding unsure.

He shook his head. “Tell me you understand.”

“I understand, Paladin.”

“Outstanding,” he intoned, satisfied. “Let’s move out. We have a scientist to find.”

-oOo-

Danse’s headlamp barely made a dent in the darkness as he looked up at the umpteenth cliff side he had to scale. His tired body protested as he pulled himself over a small ledge in the rock face he was climbing, groaning as he was met with yet another wall of scorched stone. Behind him, Jasper gave a whimper as she lost her footing, followed by the sound of gravel tumbling down the incline of the mountain.

He stopped for a moment to call back to her, keeping his rifle close to his chest, “Knight, are you alright?”

A frustrated grunt echoed over the expanse to him before she replied, “Yeah, just – ugh, _God_ , give me a moment.”

The paladin kept his eyes on the distant haze as she continued to work her way back up the mountain, his thoughts swarming as his body remained alert.

They’d been walking for hours, night having fallen quite some time ago. Scribe Mason had managed to reach them long enough to let them know of a shift change, but things had been quiet since then. Constant static filled the paladin’s ears through the earpieces of his helm, the sound mingling with that of his constantly-ticking Geiger counter. To their luck, they found the blast crater just after nightfall and met the Children of Atom who, even more fortunately, were in a terrific mood for giving directions to the weary travellers. They’d taken a short pause an hour or so ago to top up on their Rad-X, but had since continued their journey to Virgil's cave in the southwest, a direction given to them by Mother Isolde.

Though her approach had been silent, Jasper made a noise of triumph when she caught up to the paladin, stopping just shy of his position to ask, “How much farther do you think it is?”

“Not far,” he said, robotic speech warbling through his helmet's mic as he continued his march uphill, “if it’s close enough for a runaway Institute scientist to make the trek to the crater regularly.”

Jasper hummed, following him carefully. “I suppose so.”

As he had predicted, the mountain soon plateaued into a small but clear area that held little brush along the cliffside, with a gaping hole carved into its face.

“This has to be it,” she said, not quite as confidently as Danse supposed she wanted to sound.

“Southwestern-most cave from the crater,” the paladin said, repeating the Child of Atom’s words back at the knight. “It’s the only one we’ve come across, if you discount the pointless maze we found.”

“God only knows this forsaken wasteland has been screwing with my compass,” she muttered, giving a sigh before continuing, “I'll go check what's inside.”

Before he could offer to go instead, Jasper clipped _Righteous_ _Authority_ into its holster on her hip as she jogged up the incline. She toyed with her helm's torch settings before taking a peek inside, investigating the cave's entrance for what felt like an eternity. Once she seemed satisfied with her findings, she retreated to the paladin's side.

“Any luck?”

The woman shook her head slowly. “It’s pitch black in there. We have no choice but to go inside and see if we’re right.”

“Alright. Stay alert, take it slow, and make absolutely no noise,” Danse said, his grip tightening on his rifle. “We have no idea what we're up against, with his state of mind or what he's set up in there.” Her head bowed ever so slightly as she nodded in agreement. “Lead the way, then, Knight.”

Jasper nodded once again, unclipping _Righteous Authority_ from her hip and priming the weapon. He followed her as they crept toward the entrance, his eyes scanning their flanks out of habit.

At the cave's threshold, she bent her knees even lower than he thought possible and, with surprising ease, slipped into the dark tunnel, her footfalls similar to a sinner walking into a church.

With one last sweep of the area behind him, Danse followed his subordinate, taking care to emulate her silence.

It was much roomier in the cave than Danse had thought: both knight and paladin were able to move comfortably in a single file along the twisting path with a few inches to either side of their shoulders, the rock walls looking ashen in the dim light of their helms. For the first few minutes of their journey, no noise could be heard save for the quiet crunching of dirt beneath their feet and the occasional drip-dripping of water from the ceiling, giving the paladin some sense of relief despite the possible trap they were walking right into.

Almost entirely distracted by the enclosure, the paladin’s heart nearly gave out when a sudden collision of tin cans clanked against the steel of Jasper’s suit in a horrible reverberation throughout the cave. Danse froze in an awkward crouch just as the blinding glare of a spotlight flooded the cave, followed by the very familiar, very unwanted chirp of turrets whirring to life to find their target.

“Fuck,” hissed Jasper, straightening herself to adopt a battle stance. There were two of the things, both of their barrels raised in warning, aimed directly at the knight and himself. He aimed just over the knight's right shoulder at one of the offending machines, holding his breath as he readied to squeeze the trigger.

The only thing that stopped him was the slight shuffling coming from within the antechamber before a deep, rumbling voice echoed to them, its tone menacing as its owner threatened, “Don’t come any closh – God dammit – _closer!_ ”

His heart skipped a beat as he immediately recognized the guttural voice.

_That does not belong to a human._

“ _Fuck_ ,” repeated the knight, widening her stance as she stood to her full height, preparing herself for the entity that stormed toward them.

Danse’s grip tightened on his rifle, pulling it closer to look down its sights at the mouth of the tunnel. He held his position as the sound of heavy footsteps thudded closer to the pair, the owner's feet dragging raggedly on the ground.

A sudden gasp escaped Jasper's throat as she attempted to shuffle shuffling as fast as she could, bumping immediately into the paladin.

Before Danse could ask what was wrong, the answer stood just outside of the spotlight's reach.

“What are you doing here?” the entity snarled, his darkened form monstrous in the shadows he stood in. “Where ish he?”

Danse asked, “He?”

The paladin’s blood ran cold as the accuser stepped in front of the light, his form blocking out the glare and allowing Danse's eyes to finally adjust to the cavern's dim illumination. A super mutant stood in the place of what Danse had expected to be a man, his figure an imposing one and every bit as repulsive as any other mutant he'd faced. Though super mutants tended to wear little clothing, this one wore the shredded remnants of some sort of lab coat, a pair of precariously balanced spectacles sitting on his flattened, shapeless nose.

The former scientist wielded both a scowl and a strange rifle, aiming the latter at Jasper’s head. His bloodshot eyes seemed to have trouble focusing as the mutant blinked rapidly, his breathing quick and unsteady as the scowl turned into a rage-filled hole while he roared, “I know you from the Insh – Institute!”

The scientist's nostrils flared dangerously as he sniffed at the air, his anger palpable when neither soldier found the ability to speak. “Where’s Kellogg, huh?” the super mutant asked, his lip curling as his words deteriorated further. “He hiding behind you? Gonna jump outta nowhere and kill me while you distract?” The mutant took another menacing step forward, peeking over Jasper’s head as wild eyes searched for something only he could find. “It’sh not gonna work! _Who you think I am?_ ”

Borderline hysteria made the mutant’s voice grow louder with each sentence, while he seemed to have trouble speaking, speaking in slow, broken sentences with some of his words slurring when he wasn't screaming. His voice, although very similar to other super mutants’, had a hint of intelligence that most seemed to lack.

Danse frowned behind his visor at the thought, raising his rifle a little higher in time with a pulse of abhorrence.

_A super mutant was an abomination, no matter what they may have been before._

Jasper took another moment of silence after the ringing of the scientist's voice stopped echoing before slowly lowering her rifle. A shocked silence hung between them and the agitated scientist before the knight asked, her voice shaking, “A-are you Doctor Virgil?”

“You _damn_ well know I am,” growled the scientist, raising to his full height as his eyes wandered over her helmeted face, absolute hate radiating from his narrowed eyes. “ _Where ish he!?_ ” Virgil raged, throwing his odd rifle over his head like a spear. “Come out, Kellogg! I’m ready for you!”

The woman shrank under the super mutant’s fury, whimpering softly as she kept her rifle pointed at Virgil.

Danse forced himself ahead of Jasper then, disgust and anger mounting in him as the mutant towered over the knight. She quickly retreated behind him, more so to allow him the space to press forward rather than in fear.

“We are not associated _whatsoever_ with the Institute,” he barked at the super mutant, garnering the scientist's attention long enough to force him to at least consider Danse for a moment as a credible threat. “Lower your weapon, mutant. If you take another step towards her, you’ll wish it was Kellogg standing here and not me.”

Virgil stopped in his tracks, turning his entire focus onto the paladin, his glare intensifying by several degrees. The paladin held his gaze steadily, his rifle still aimed at the thing’s head despite the tensing of its muscles. Danse felt no fear facing the former man; he’d dealt with them at this close a range before, and he would not hesitate to destroy another one of these abominations again.

The mutant seemed to consider his options before slowly lowering his rifle, his forehead creasing in a deep frown as the anger ebbed away. “If you’re not with the Institute,” he began cautiously, choosing his words with great care, “then what the Hell are you doing here?”

Jasper hesitated before lowering her rifle once more. “I need your help,” she said in a much steadier voice. The mutant scoffed, the sound more of a grunt than anything.

“My _help,_ ” he repeated viciously. “Why would I help you? All things considered.” His eyes narrowed, gaze flicking towards Danse momentarily at his last comment before refocusing on the knight. “Come to think of it, how did you even know where to find me if you’re not with… with _them?_ ”

When no answer was immediately offered, Virgil stiffened, a look of realization making his features twist into an angry grimace. “I knew it,” he croaked, giving a loud sniff. “They _did_ shend you. You’re working with that bastard. I’m gonna ask one last time: where ish Kellogg!?”

Danse took another step forward with a growl, his finger on the trigger of his rifle when Jasper grabbed at his elbow, forcing him to stop. The paladin clenched his jaw, glaring at the knight from behind his helm as she pushed back in front of him.

“Please, relax,” she said, her tone irritatingly calm. “Kellogg’s been taken care of. You don’t have to worry about him. He’s dead.”

The finality of her statement seemed to leave a crater as wide as the Glowing Sea, and left as much of an impression on the super mutant as the War had scorched the earth.

“… Dead?” The scientist rolled the word over his tongue for a moment, seeming to relax for a moment before stiffening again, shouting, “Don’t lie to me! I know he’s hiding shomewhere, waiting – waiting to–”

“He’s _dead_ , Virgil,” she repeated, her words firmer yet still soft, a sigh on her lips as she immediately added, “Whether you believe me or not.” She sounded impatient now, however, sighing loudly once again as she once more lowered her weapon, as if to prove a point to him. “I killed him myself, and we used his memories to find you. No one at the Institute helped us, I promise.”

“And who would you be, _knight?_ ” he sneered, his eyes flickering down at the insignia on her armor.

Before Danse could interject, Jasper said without hesitation, “Jasper Cohen.”

Virgil eyed the knight warily before finally heaving defeatedly, a hand coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose. He rubbed his temples, glancing at Jasper with oddly perceptive eyes; it unsettled the paladin, the man shifting in his power armour in an attempt to dispel the unease he was feeling.

“Follow me, then,” he said slowly, waving the knight along as he turned away.

“Can Paladin Danse come along?” she asked.

“Yes, yes.” Virgil waved his hand once more, this time absentmindedly, as if they hadn't just nearly exchanged shots at one another. “Jusht come in.”

Danse kept his sights trained on the mutant’s back until he disappeared from view, the scientist lumbering noisily back into his hovel. Once the mutant was out of sight, the paladin lowered his weapon and stopped Jasper, who was already moving to join Virgil.

“Can we trust him?” he asked, his voice low. Jasper gave a slow shake of her head, giving an uncertain shrug.

“We’re going to have to, Danse,” she replied. “We have no choice here.”

“I don’t like this, Knight.”

“Me either, but he seems to still have some sort of control over his mental faculties than what other super mutants do,” she said, punctuating her sentence with a defeated sigh. “If he cooperates, things will go well.”

“If things go south, I won't hesitate to pull the trigger,” Danse said stoutly, giving his rifle a squeeze for emphasis. “Should we need to, focus on destroying the turrets while I take him out. Understood?”

“Yes, Paladin.”

“Good. I’ll go in first.”

With that, the paladin slipped by Jasper, the knight having to press herself against the rocky wall to let him pass for the second time.

Danse did not know what he was expecting to find in the scientist’s makeshift home, but what he saw wasn’t exactly what he would have imagined. The chamber was naturally separated into three sections, all of which contained different instrumentation and machines. A single, uncomfortable bed made of old car tires and mesh wiring lay in a corner, a terminal set up next to it on a small table. A rather beat-up looking protectron was patrolling the hideout, clunking along rhythmically as it walked, adding to the noise of the cavern's electronics.

The scientist was standing at one of the rusted metal desks, staring at them from beneath a buckled brow. He looked impatient, glaring at them as they approached. Unbothered by Virgil’s hostile stance, Danse stepped up to the desk, purposely holding his rifle a little higher up. Jasper was close behind, stopping as she neared the men.

“I’m not sure I believe you,” Virgil began after a moment of intense disquiet.

"Oh?" the knight remarked simply, her tone flat.

The super mutant nodded sagely, fiddling with one of the edges of his glasses. "Kellogg was a cold-blooded killer, and given your status from –" He hesitated, his eyes flicking to Danse, before he cleared his throat and continued, a little more conscientious of his words, "Well. You know first-hand how he is."

"Was," Jasper corrected coolly.

Danse turned his full attention to the former scientist, unwanted curiosity nipping at his mind. She'd never talked about Kellogg, other than telling him the baseline facts of what the mercenary had done to her husband; perhaps he could learn more from this creature about what Jasper had faced, despite seeing how Virgil knew much more than he was willing to divulge at the moment.

“Kellogg was ruthless,” the super mutant continued, visibly bristling as he counted down on his fingers Kellogg _’_ s resume. “From the West to the East, he drifted from one organization to the other, killing and brutalizing any poor unfortunate bashtard. He began the Inshti – _Institute’s_ dirty work decades ago, and it’s not difficult to see why.” He shook his head slightly, a cold laugh on his dehydrated lips. “I knew they’d send him after me, so I tried to prepare for it. A group of Coursers would be child's play compared to him. But, despite all of thish…” The mutant leaned forward, resting his hands on the desk as he stared at Jasper’s cold helm, narrowing his eyes. “You’re telling me that _you_ killed him?”

“Yes,” the knight affirmed, though pride was an emotion far from her words as she spoke. “I tracked him down months ago, trying to gather information regarding the Institute from him.” Virgil looked at Danse once again while she talked, and it nearly drove him up the wall; but he remained silent, more interested in her words than the creature's expressions. “You can imagine how the negotiations went if it's me standing here rather than Kellogg.”

After a tense moment of staring into her helm, Virgil gave a snort. “I suppose that’s not too surprising; he was never easy to deal with. But it doeshn’t matter,” he added acidly, the metal legs of the desk scraping against the rocky floor as he shoved himself away. He stared at the knight almost defiantly, saying with immense contempt, “I’m not going back, no matter what anyone says.”

“No one’s asking you to,” said Jasper gently.

The super mutant growled, his nostrils flaring dangerously as his hands turned into fists, “What did they offer you, then?”

Her tone grew hard yet remained quiet as she replied, “Do you really have to ask me that, Virgil?” His eyes narrowed, but he remained silent as Jasper pressed on, “I – _we_ – just need information regarding the Institute. That’s all.”

“I don’t trust the word of a fasheless being.”

Danse pressed his lips together, impatience beginning to twist in his gut. Attempting to keep his tone civilized, the paladin asked, “Is this really necessary? She has already told you her name, and you _clearly_ seem to recognize her–”

“Not knowing shomething for certain is the bane of any scientist’s existence,” replied the scientist, cutting Danse off with a glare. When the paladin did not resume speaking, too insulted to think of anything nice to say, Virgil turned his severe gaze back onto the knight. “I want to see your face.”

“Fine,” she said, exasperated. Jasper reached up, twisting her helm off with a click. The paladin held his breath as she tugged it off and placed it down on the desk, a haughty look on her features. Her eyes cut through the low light of the cave with surprising brilliance as she met the scientist’s scrutiny with a sort of reckless defiance, determination etched into every crevice of her face.

The scientist examined the knight with an intensity that put Maxson’s worst glare to shame. If Jasper was uncomfortable, she did not show it, her expression remaining stoic as she held the mutant’s now-surprised stare. It was almost as if the woman was challenging the scientist, daring him to say anything against her.

Danse, on the other hand, had once again been reduced to shifting nervously in his suit. He abhorred the way the scientist made him feel so uncomfortable, how a simple look from the mutant made him – a paladin of the Brotherhood of Steel – so _uneasy_. He attributed his nervousness to the long day they’d had, and nothing more; being tired always made a difference in how he handled situations, and today seemed to be no different.

At least that’s what he told himself.

Thankfully, the paladin found comfort in the weight of his rifle, inching it up a little higher against his armour’s torso out of habit. He tracked Virgil's eyes as the mutant examined every bit of the knight's exposed face, the scientist's yellowed eyes flicking rapidly as they darted from one feature to the next.

When the scientist was done, he grunted in what Danse only assumed was satisfaction.

“I suppose I believe you, then,” Virgil said with an air of unwarranted superiority, his chin lifting haughtily. The paladin’s temper flared in time with Jasper’s brow twitching up in response. Before Danse could say anything, however, the mutant sniffed again, crossing his arms as he gave the knight a look over the black rim of his glasses. “What kind of information do you need regarding that Hellhole?”

“How to get in, for starters,” Jasper answered simply yet confidently.

A thick silence settled over the trio as shock registered on the mutant’s features, staring at the knight in disbelief. A harsh bark of a laugh then left the scientist, the sound echoing loudly throughout the cave.

“You can’t be sherious,” Virgil said incredulously, his brows raised as he worked through the laughter-made tears.

“I’m perfectly serious,” the knight replied, her expression mirroring the seriousness with which she spoke. Her expression softened along with her voice as she continued, saying almost pleadingly, “I wouldn’t be asking if I wasn’t desperate, Doctor. I realize it’s a rather absurd request, but –”

“ _Absurd?_ ” Another barking laugh, then: “It’s suicide.” He shook his head at the woman, regarding her with something akin to pity. “You’re goddamn _inshane_. Why the Hell would you want to get in there? Look at what I did to myshelf trying to get _out_.” Virgil swept his massive hands up and down, motioning to his deformed body. Jasper barely had the decency to not stare, her brow furrowing slightly as she struggled to keep Virgil's stare.

Seeing her gaze flicker, the scientist scoffed and muttered, crossing his arms over his chest, “What reason could you poshibly have for wanting to rishk your life like that?”

Jasper held Virgil’s gaze for a moment before dropping her own, looking down at the desk with a deep frown cutting into her skin. There was a palpable sadness pulsing from the knight as she answered, her voice small, “I want my baby boy back.”

Virgil blinked, his expression sobering to one of solemn surprise. “Oh,” he whispered, a feat Danse never knew possible for a super mutant. The mutant’s stiff facial features did not express sympathy very well, the deformed features scrunched in an almost painful way, but the emotion was more than recognizable in his tone of voice.

“I’m… shorry,” the scientist began, no longer able to meet Jasper's eyes when she looked up. “The Inshtitute hash, um, taken people from the Commonwealth in the pasht, sho I shouldn't be utterly shurprised, but _thish_ … I...”

“Never expected anyone would be crazy enough to attempt a breach?” Jasper finished, smiling half-heartedly.

He blinked again, meeting her eyes for a moment as an emotion Danse couldn't quite make out flashed across the scientist's face, but it was gone just as fast as Virgil's gaze turned elsewhere. “No,” Virgil answered slowly. He shifted in his spot, fiddling with his glasses once more. “No, not neshesharily.”

There was more he wanted to say, Danse could tell; but for whatever reason, the super mutant was tight-lipped about it.

Were they walking into a trap? What did he know that made this once-talkative creature so silent?

Danse was usually a great observer, and this mutant was like an open book – that stutter gave away his emotions where facial expressions would have, aiding the paladin in his assumptions. But _what_ was it that Virgil knew that neither he nor the knight knew?

But his questions wouldn't be answered, for Jasper and the super mutant began negotiating what his price would be for his assistance, drawing the conversation away from Jasper and her connections to the Institute. Danse was left to his own devices, listening intently as they discussed any possible exchange that was of the same value for the information they needed.

The paladin grew restless as their conversation dragged on. They seemed unable to come to an understanding, Jasper's offers being ignored by the scientist almost as soon as they were brought up. Danse, in an attempt to further the negotiations, had interjected with the suggestion of simply paying him in caps (since resources and aid seemed to be _unneeded_ in this part of the world) but was quickly shot down by the agitated scientist.

“No,” Virgil said flatly, crossing his arms over his chest. “Capsh won’t cut it, either. They won’t shave my life if the Inshtitute deshides to come after me.”

“He has a point, Paladin,” said Jasper, looking at Danse apologetically. “I’m not sure we can even offer anything that’s really worth the risk he’s taking even _talking_ to us.”

Danse shot back, incredulous, “So you're going to just give up?”

She gave him a pointed look, which made him regret his words quite immediately. “I never said that,” the knight replied after a moment, her voice low but the edges sharp. “What I need, instead, is to know what Virgil wants from us, not what we're willing to offer.” She turned to face the mutant once more, searching for something in the irradiated face to give the answer away.

The paladin looked from his partner to the scientist, another uncomfortable shiver washing over him as he stared at the wide smile arching across Virgil's deformed lips. “Now there's an idea,” he mused, moving his arms to his sides.

“Oh God,” the paladin whispered, giving Virgil a wide-eyed look of guarded anticipation. Although the mutant could not see his expression, the way the scientist looked his way gave Danse the impression that he knew just how the paladin was feeling.

“What I really want,” Virgil began slowly, “is to return to my unadulterated human self.”

The paladin felt something break inside him at the mutant’s demand. Anger – hot, liquid _rage_ – pooled in his stomach, burning his throat as it boiled up to the surface.

“Return to your human self,” Jasper repeated, enunciating each word as if she hadn’t heard them correctly.

“Yesh. Don’t give me that look,” the scientist added grumpily in response to the knight’s narrow-eyed look of disbelief. “I know what FEV doesh to the human body; I alsho wouldn’t be ashking if there washn’t a way.”

Before he had a chance to stop himself, Danse growled venomously, “There _isn’t_ , you bastard.”

Virgil turned his focus to him, his eyes eerily bright. Danse was unabashed, finally giving way to his temper, his anger and disgust pouring from him with the velocity of a waterfall.

“I _knew_ we couldn’t trust you, you filthy mutant,” he continued at a near shout. Maxson’s words echoed somewhere in the back of his mind – “ _Emotions cannot get in the way of duty_ ” – but the paladin ignored them. “You’re giving us something impossible to do so you don’t have to divulge anything, aren’t you?” He raised his hand to point at the mutant, the latter’s eyes flicking towards the accusing digit before returning to glare at the paladin’s helm.

“ _Danse_ ,” hissed Jasper, giving him a look. The paladin shook his head, waving a hand to silence her as Virgil stared at him, his expression growing darker with every passing second.

“Watch your mouth,” warned the scientist, grimacing menacingly down at the man. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I couldn’t care less,” said Danse, meeting the super mutant’s gaze with a glare of his own. “I learned _years_ ago that your kind are not to be trusted, and you’re proving me right with every Goddamn word you utter.”

Virgil’s glare turned sour as he stared at the paladin, visibly insulted. Jasper made a noise of anger, throwing her head back to glare up at the ceiling with a soft string of curses. She opened her mouth to protest against the paladin’s words, but the mutant held up a hand, cutting her off before she even had the chance to speak.

“I don’t want to hear it,” Virgil growled threateningly. The knight pressed her lips together, a flicker of fear crossing her face. “You come into _my_ cave ashking for my _help_ , and then you _inshult_ me!?” As he spoke, his voice raised to a thundering bellow which echoed around the cave, amplifying his rage tenfold.

“No – please,” Jasper said, closing her eyes briefly. When she opened them again, desperation shone in their depths, their usual brightness dimmed considerably. “He--he doesn’t mean what he said. _Please_. Just tell us what you want in return, and I’ll make it happen.”

“You really musht be shtupid to believe that I’m shtill helping you,” the scientist said with an acidic laugh, shaking his head.

Jasper's face scrunched up in panic as she realized her one opportunity was evaporating before her eyes. “You say you know me,” she began, her words stumbling out over her tongue even as Virgil turned away, obviously done with their negotiations. “Then you know _exactly_ what I'm facing here, and your input would be–”

He swung around to face her again, leaning close as he snarled quietly, “Not. Going. To happen.” He stood to his full height and pointed to the exit, his eyes wide. “ _Get out!_ ”

Danse stood his ground, raising his rifle to aim directly at the mutant’s head. “You’ll give her the information, or I’ll be sure to make her face the last thing you ever see,” he commanded, his voice dangerously low. “ _Now_ ,” he insisted when the scientist merely stared at him, his arm still up in the air.

They stood like this for half a beat before the mutant dropped his arm and snorted. “You’re absholutely mental,” he muttered before crossing his arms, looking directly at Danse. “Find me a Coursher.”

“How?”

“Tune in to the clashical radio station and listen for _Sonata quasi una fantasia, Allegretto,_ 1801\. That’sh where you’ll find one.”

Jasper frowned deeply, looking about as confused as Danse felt. “What-”

“Onshe you find it,” Virgil barked impatiently, effectively drowning out the knight’s question, “kill it and get its chip decoded. Until then, get _OUT!_ ”

The scientist’s shout reverberated loudly enough that it made the earpieces in Danse’s helm protest with a high-pitched squeal. Jasper stood, simply looking at the scientist with wide-eyed confusion, while Danse, who was attempting to rein in his anger, stared him down as best as he could from behind his visor.

Tight-lipped and nervous, Danse kept his rifle aimed at Virgil even as he turned away with a final sneer. Jasper looked down at her helm on the desk, a slow frown creasing her brow as she picked it up and placed it back onto her head. Once her helm was secure, she muttered a thank you (which the paladin was _sure_ the scientist heard, but refused to acknowledge) before turning away from the cavern and walking out.

Giving the scientist one last distrustful look, Danse followed his subordinate, eyeing the turrets on his way out. He could hear Jasper moving noisily along the path, her pauldrons scraping the stone whenever she rounded a corner. Her movements were jerky and frustrated, walking quickly as if she were trying to simply get as far away as she could from the cave as quickly as possible.

He knew she was angry because of what he’d said and done; and, as a result, the paladin felt even guiltier for having lost his temper. He wanted to apologize, to explain why he’d snapped, but he wasn’t sure she would listen, much less understand _why_ he had reacted the way he did.

Then again, he mused, the last time he’d stayed silent about something like this had led to them not speaking for three days.

“Knight,” he said, coming to a halt. Stopping, she turned her head and grunted in acknowledgment. “I… Apologize for having lost my temper with the mu—with Virgil. It could have cost us the mission, and the information we were after.”

The knight remained quiet for a moment before sighing softly. “It _was_ stupid,” she agreed, “but it wasn’t all that bad. You got the information out of him, and that’s all that matters.” A pause, then: “He was an ass anyway.”

Danse gave a snort. “At least we can agree on that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not making this as cut and dry as the game, if you couldn't tell. It can't be *too* easy for our pair. 
> 
> And, Danse is learning!!
> 
> A huge thank you to my beta reader, chiixil84. I seriously have no clue where I'd be without her.
> 
> As usual, comments are greatly appreciated. Spot anything wrong? Let me know! :)


	17. Radioactive Ooze

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Radioactive Ooze
> 
> \--> 3 oz Orange Juice  
> \--> 3 oz Hpnotiq  
> \--> 3 oz Citrus Vodka  
> \--> 10 medium ice cubes
> 
> Add ice, orange juice, Hpnotiq and citrus vodka to shaker and shake. Strain and pour into glass over ice.

Musty, humid air filled his lungs as they stepped back out into the open, the sickly haze seeming to have grown thicker since they’d walked into Virgil’s hideout. Danse had to squint against the darkness in an attempt to see anything at all, and although he knew Jasper was close Danse could barely make out her blurred form ahead of him. The degree of impairedness that his vision had become made him nervous so, as a way to attempt to calm himself, he raised his weapon to take a look around them, listening intently for any sign of movement.

Jasper had stopped to wait, turning to face him as he neared her. “So,” she said. “What do you make of the info he gave us?”

“It’s confusing, but I’m sure our scribes can handle it,” Danse answered as he stopped beside her. “It must be a song if he mentioned the classical radio station, correct?”

“Affirmative,” she said, sounding thoughtful. “It actually sounds really familiar. _Sonata quasi una fantasia_ … Hmm.” The knight began to mumble to herself, naming ancient composers and songs that were entirely unknown to him. Seeing as the finer arts were a realm far beyond his expertise, Danse silently let her be, instead turning his focus back to observing their surroundings.

His rifle primed, the paladin turned on the spot, frowning against the annoying hiss of radio static. The walls of the cave had blocked Waypoint Echo’s radio frequency, giving him a short respite from its constant buzzing. Since exiting the cave, however, it had come back in full force, its uselessness a staunch reminder of the dangers that this area posed.

“Oh! _Oh!_ I know what it is!”

Danse jumped at Jasper’s sudden exclamation, turning to give her a concealed glare as she turned to face him. “Quiet,” he hissed. “Who knows what’s out here.”

“Sorry,” she whispered loudly. “I just - I think I know what the song is!”

“I had deduced as much from your repeated exclamations,” he said with a sigh. “What is it, then?”

“Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata,” she enthused triumphantly, forgetting herself once more. “I’ve been trying to figure it out since we started walking through the tunnel.”

“How do you know this?” He was skeptical, but thankfully his tone of voice did not betray him.

“My mother used to play classical music quite a bit when I was a child, and she taught me about the songs and different composers. Have you heard of it?”

“I can’t say,” said the paladin, frowning. “Music wasn’t really a big part of my life, unless you count Galaxy News Radio’s constant loop of the same songs.”

“Galaxy News Radio?” She sounded incredulous, pausing before asking, “Like the Galaxy News _Network_? That’s still around?” She gave a soft laugh of disbelief, shifting her weight from one foot to the other as her helm shook ever so slightly.

“Yes, but now’s not really the time to discuss this, Knight,” Danse chided. He gave a nervous glance around him before refocusing on Jasper. “We have to get back to the Prydwen and give Elder Maxson the information we have before we melt away in this radiation.”

“Yes, yes. Of course. Right. Sorry.” Her voice was sheepish, but he heard the smile there.

“It’s alright,” he said, smiling despite himself. “We’ll get to flat ground and deploy those signal grenades, and then hope to God they see it.”

“Yes, sir.”

With that, Jasper turned and, after a moment of contemplation, decided on a path and began the hike down the mountain. Danse watched his footing as he carefully followed the knight, letting his steps fall as gingerly as he could under his weight. There wasn’t much he could do against the brittle rock, but he could damn well do his best not to cause a stony avalanche.

A short while later they reached a narrow plateau, the rock barely jutting out enough to hold both of them at once. Nothing about this area seemed familiar, and everywhere he turned just gave way to the massive unknown that was the Sea.

Danse made a small noise of frustration. Why was this goddamn terrain so hard to map out?

Footstep after footstep, the pair followed the arduous path back down to the foot of the mountain. Although already quite dark, the sky above them deepened in colour as clouds covered whatever was visible. A slight wind picked up about halfway down, and by the time they reached the bottom of the incline the gusts had amplified in strength just enough to ignite a slow burn of worry in his gut. Small whirlwinds of toxic dust whipped against the steel of their armour; dry branches splintered off of whatever trees were left standing around them, one narrowly missing Jasper as it was ripped from its trunk.

 _Watch a damn tree be the thing that finally does me in,_ the paladin thought ruefully as he pushed through the dead brush, stepping around the offending limb with a glare.

As he fought to see through a particularly thick cloud of sand, the paladin felt extremely grateful for the protection that their suits offered. He blinked instinctively against the sand pinging against the glass of his visor as it battered at him, the sound almost enough to drown out the infernal radio static and heartbeat of his Geiger counter. The instrument’s reading spiked whenever the wind blew, and if his experience was anything to go by, he knew that nothing good was coming.

Danse gave an exasperated sigh. A radstorm was the last thing they needed in unknown territory.

 _Regroup and strategize_.

“Knight,” he shouted against the howling of the wind, stopping next to a boulder. It provided a modest amount of relief, at least.

Jasper halted and turned, holding a hand up against her helm in an effort to shield her visor from the whirling dust. “What the hell is going on?” she asked, walking towards him as she spoke. “This terrain isn’t the same as the one we originally crossed to get to Virgil.”

He agreed, “I don't recognize this area, either. We need to—”

A loud crackle of distorted thunder interrupted him, causing both soldiers to lift their faces skyward. Erratic flashes of bright green lightning broke through the clouds like strobe lights, briefly illuminating the area around them before plunging them back into a hazy darkness.

“We need to get out of this radiation _now_ ,” Danse pressed. “This radstorm could last for hours, and with this wind, signal grenades will be useless. For now, we need some sort of shelter.”

“I can’t see a damn thing,” she said with a sigh of frustration, swinging around to look at the shimmering wall of smog. Danse heard her voice tighten as another roll of thunder tore through the air. “We could always go back to the cave and wait it out.”

“Negative, soldier. Until we can get what he wants, that’s hostile territory." The paladin would much rather stand stark naked in the middle of the storm than go back to Virgil a beggar at this point, but Jasper did not need to know that. "We need to find a safe area to take our next dose of Rad-X."

"I haven't seen anything since we left," the knight said, sounding discouraged. “This place is endlessly confusing.”

Danse gave a disgruntled growl as he once more looked around, staring blankly at the vast expanse. Even exploring the Commonwealth hadn't been _this_ daunting.

The paladin expelled an exasperated puff of air before saying, “A cliff would provide adequate shelter at this point. Anything to get out of this damn storm.”

“I suppose we could just keep heading the way we were going,” Jasper said after a moment of relative silence. “I know we should be heading northwest, but this storm is throwing my compass completely off kilter.” A sigh. “With my map being useless, all we can do is try.”

Danse stayed silent as another crackle of thunder echoed around them, accompanied by the strobe-like flashes of lightning. He turned his gaze upward as he mulled over their options: stay here and risk getting needlessly irradiated, or wander the Sea in the hopes of finding adequate shelter.

Frustrated at his own lack of answers, he heaved a defeated sigh: he was exhausted and his body and mind were screaming for rest, but that was definitely _not_ an option. He was sure Jasper felt the same, if not even more so, but for the sake of this mission and its relative success, they needed to press on.

“We’ll keep moving forward,” he finally said, Jasper responding with a stiff nod. “Keep your rifle primed, and stay focused. Remember your training, and stay alert. Let’s move out.”

Another stiff nod was her response before turning and beginning the march to... Well, he didn't know where, but he hoped they would find it sooner than later.

Danse followed the knight closely, his senses on high alert. A permanent frown was etched onto his face as they walked, worry seeping into every fibre of his body. The fleeting sense of security the paladin had tricked himself into feeling slowly ebbed away as mountains and jagged cliffs gave way to flat, rough terrain. He felt agitated at the openness of it all, the fear of being attacked constantly nagging at the back of his mind.

 _We may as well have bright, neon targets on our back_ s _,_ he thought bitterly as he pushed through a particularly strong gust of wind. _But I guess it isn't like anyone else would be dumb enough to be out here._

The horizon remained a stark, dull green as the storm remained staunch in its attack, and after what felt like an eternity the crater’s bright glow finally came into view, an impromptu beacon of recognizance in the paladin’s wary mind. Danse felt a small wave of relief; all they needed now was somewhere they could hole up and top up on their Rad-X, and things would be right as rain.

Acidic rain, but rain nonetheless.

Almost as if answering some sort of unspoken prayer, the shadow of a sunken building cropped up in the near distance as they trudged on. The flat top of a sunken building created level ground, a few ventilation exhausts poking out from the concrete roof. A large, structurally sound-looking room stood to the far right of the building, its railings decrepit but still very much usable. Danse almost shouted in triumph, but quickly quelled the feeling with a jarring reminder that they were not yet out of immediate danger.

They’d been lucky thus far, but he did not want to push it.

Jasper halted ahead of him, waiting for him to catch up to her before saying hesitantly, “What is this place?”

“No idea,” he answered, quickly scanning the building. Letters splashed along a billboard teetering off of the building's front were far too faded for him to recognize their original shapes, but with the remaining few he attempted to make out the meaning of its message. “I think that sign says _O’Neill Family Manufacturing_.” He raised a hand to point at the board, Jasper’s head swivelling as she followed his gesture.

“Oh,” she said, disinterested. After a moment of observation, she asked uncertainly, “Can we even get in?”

“Only one way to find out.”

With that, Danse took the lead, his gait slow as they approached the cracked roof of the sunken factory. A gaping hole manifested at the slope’s lowest point, the concrete having given in to the massive weight of dirt and fallen rock. Nothing seemed to inhabit the area, their surroundings as still as they could be with the wind that was still blowing.

The paladin had to suppress a gag as they came across the rotting carcass of what was once a ghoul. The corpse was deflated, its pockmarked skin barely clinging on to what remained of its bones. Thick, black ooze seeped from the cracks in its flesh, the gashes in its chest teeming with maggots. With a frown, Danse stopped, narrowing his eyes as he crouched to take a closer look at the thing’s wounds.

“Look at this,” he said, forced to speak loudly over a gust of wind. Jasper stopped behind him, making a sound of disgust.

“That’s absolutely disgusting,” she said, backing away from the corpse. “That isn’t fresh, is it?”

“I want to say no, but ghouls are technically already dead.” Danse stood, taking a quick look around to see if there were more of the foul things -- alive or dead he did not care, but when he noticed that there was nothing else around them, not even a bloatfly, his gut clenched in warning.

He muttered a curse, more to himself than to Jasper, when after a quick survey of their surroundings he found nothing out of the ordinary. Danse quickly raised himself to full height then, turning to face his subordinate. “Knight, do you see anything around us? Anything at all.”

Jasper turned on the spot, giving a slow look at the building, then the rock formation that towered over the site. “No,” she said slowly, dragging out the ‘n’ as if she weren't entirely sure of her answer. Jasper faced the paladin, her grip on her rifle tightening. “That’s not normal for ghouls, is it.” It was a statement rather than a question, and the paladin shook his head in response.

“No, it’s not. We should maybe wa—”

Both knight and paladin gave a visible start as an ear-splitting roar filled the air. His heart in his throat, Danse looked over Jasper’s pauldron to see three ghouls rushing full-speed towards them.

“Jasper!” Danse called out, moving off to the side as he pulled his weapon up to his chest, readying his aim at the closest of the three. She took a step away from him as well, her confusion evident in her body language as she struggled to raise her weapon to meet the new threat.

Danse took quick aim, his crosshairs shakily targeting the first ghoul – but, before he could pull the trigger, the abominations ran right _past_ them, their fear tangible as they stumbled over themselves and into the darkness.

The baffled soldiers watched as the mindlessly terrified ferals ran into the abyss of the old factory, neither sure of what to do until another deafening roar echoed throughout the decrepit enclosure.

Turning, Danse felt his blood run cold as a deathclaw stared directly at them, its mouth wide as a snarl forced itself from the creature's throat. Its forked tongue slithered out to taste the air around it as the creature took a step forward, its dark scales glimmering in the pale light of the crater.

It was much bigger than any deathclaw Danse had ever had the misfortune of crossing, the creature’s powerful legs tensing like hydraulics of a vertibird as it crouched low to the ground, eyeing the pair of soldiers with hunger in its yellow eyes. It sniffed at them curiously, its fanged mouth open in a low, rumbling growl as it flexed its massive hands. Its claws glinted ominously, very long and very, _very_ sharp.

“Oh, fiddlesticks,” Jasper whispered, her voice tightening into a squeak.

Despite the protection the helm gave him, a shiver of fear travelled up his spine as he made eye contact with the mutated animal. “There’s no time to waste,” he began, his words stumbling as he spoke to Jasper. “As soon as one of us moves, it will attack. Brace yourself, keep moving, and aim for its belly. Ready?”

“I think so,” was Jasper’s shaky reply.

Under normal circumstances, he'd allow her a moment to digest the commands he gave her so the knight would gather her courage to perform their mission to the fullest, but this was not even in the same realm as "normal."

They couldn't afford to be too hesitant when it came to deathclaws.

Without further ado, he shouted in an attempt at gaining its attention, “ _Ad Victoriam!_ ”

As soon as his shout erupted from his dehydrated lips, the animal lunged, heading directly for the source of the battle cry. Danse heard Jasper shout next to him as she sprinted out of the thing’s way, her rifle’s shots echoing his own as the twin shots were made in the midst of panic. In a split-second decision as the creature came upon him, the paladin chose to take off in the opposite direction in an odd sidestep, narrowly avoiding the creature’s vicious swipe.

He nearly tripped over his own feet in his haste, the desperation momentarily taking over where protocol usually did. As he attempted to regain his balance, the deathclaw skidded to a halt at the end of the enclosure, giving an angry snarl as it looked first at the knight then at him. It roared in frustration and, after a harsh sniff, decided to once more lunge at the paladin, its nostrils flared in pure fury.

Cursing under his breath once more, the paladin let off a few shots in quick succession as he once more dodged its swipe, aiming in the creature’s general direction as he moved awkwardly. He smirked when the thing gave a high-pitched screech of pain, finally slowing its momentum enough to give the paladin enough time to take a good look at it.

The creature swung around viciously, enraged and disoriented as it clutched at its upper chest. A blistered, smoking crater marked where it had been hit by Danse’s shot, the bone exposed beneath the charred flesh. Jasper’s quick, heavy footsteps alerted him to the knight’s presence, her panting surprisingly audible through the scratching of the deathclaw’s angry shuffling. The paladin raised his weapon to aim at the animal once more, glancing quickly at the knight before firing off another quick set of rounds.

“Remember to aim for its belly,” he commanded over the rifle's expulsion, jerking the smoking tip towards the deathclaw. “That’s its weak point. Let’s finish this!”

The familiar _phewm_ of _Righteous Authority_ finally joined the fray as they advanced on the creature as a singular entity, their plan and resolve set into motion once the initial panic wore off. Most of their shots missed their target, hitting its arms as the animal attempted to shield itself from the searing heat of their lasers.

Danse was not discouraged, however; he knew that their window of opportunity was small, and, given the circumstances, hitting the creature at all was a small victory in itself, one he was willing to take with open arms.

As they neared the deathclaw, it became progressively more violent in its desperation to avoid a second injury. The animal roared as a second shot hit its chest, this time lower and closer to its exposed abdomen.  Savage claws flashed as its hand swung down in a wide arc, the shudder-inducing sound of bone against metal resonating across the wasteland as its hand collided with Jasper, lifting the woman clear off the ground.

Danse watched as the knight crashed to the ground in a heap several feet away, her weapon landing somewhere in the haze of the Sea. He watched her form with a sinking heart, unsure of her status: was she moving? Was she _able_ to move? Was she even alive? He didn’t have much time to ponder as the deathclaw gave a particularly shrill screech, rousing him back to the task at hand.

His rage pulsed through his chest in time to the thunder pounding outside as he turned to face the creature. Determined to end this as quickly as possible, the paladin held his breath, took careful aim and quickly let off three successive shots.

The sound of sizzling flesh came to him as the shots hit the beast square in the abdomen with a precision that shocked even himself. A final howl left the creature as it stumbled forward, its steps faltering as its strength left its body terrifyingly quickly. A fierce sense of triumph hit him as the deathclaw swung and missed, finally coming to a full stop as it fell forward, the ground shuddering and erupting into a shower of grime and dust as it collapsed into the sediment.

Panting, the paladin lowered his rifle, staring at the creature’s body as the cloud of dust settled around the area. Its yellow eyes were lifeless, their angry gleam dulled as they reflected nothing but the green haze of the fog from the holes in the ceiling.

With a last glare at the creature, Danse turned to face the downed knight, worry quickly replacing the triumph he felt. Still holding his rifle, he rapidly made his way to her, looking for any sign of movement from the woman. Her power armour’s torso was caved in on one side, her right pauldron bent at an odd angle under the suit’s weight; and, to top it all off, hydraulic fluid seemed to be leaking from one of her legs, the dark liquid pooling beneath the suit ominously.

“Knight?” he called out, his voice shaky and panicked when she didn't immediately respond. “Come on, Jasper!” Relief flooded him as he heard her groan, a strained noise leaving her as she attempted to push herself up.

“I’m fine,” she answered gruffly, a cough tinging her words. Danse noticed that her voice was muffled, her helm’s speaker non-functional, but a broken microphone was the least of his worries. “Just a bit rattled is all. Impressive takedown, Paladin.”

“Thanks,” he replied, frowning as she continued in her attempts at sitting up. A grunt of frustration left her as she was forced back down, her armour seemingly stuck. “Can you move at all?”

“No,” she answered breathlessly as she made a second attempt at standing. She growled, dropping back down to her side with a heavy thud. “My armour’s busted. There’s no power coming from the fusion core. Would you mind releasing the valve for me so I can get out of this useless piece of junk?”

“The storm is still blowing, soldier. I don’t think—”

“I’ll take extra Rad-X if I have to,” she said impatiently. “Just _get me out_.”

Danse hesitated for a moment before clipping his rifle into its holster and doing as the knight had asked. The suit groaned as it opened, its joints creaking loudly in protest against the damage. Jasper rolled out of the armour once it had opened enough for her, the woman landing on her back with a groan.

She lay there for a moment, arms spread on either side of her body as she took a deep breath. Her chest slowly rose and fell, her flight suit’s buckles and zippers glinting in the gentle light with every movement. Her hair was dishevelled, her face blotchy and covered in sweat. Her mouth was slightly open as she breathed, her lower lip split and bleeding. She closed her eyes after a moment, taking some time to compose herself.

“Are you alright?” Danse asked, crouching next to the knight. “Is anything broken?”

“I don’t think so,” she answered, opening her eyes to look at him. “My ribs are sore from my less than graceful landing, but otherwise I feel alright.”

“Let me help you up.”

Standing, he extended his armoured hand. With a small smile, she took it and pulled herself up with another soft groan, rubbing at her ribs before straightening her uniform. She took a slow, careful glance around them as she smoothed the fabric, her amber irises dull in the crater’s glow. Sighing, she turned to face him, saying quietly, “Surprised that it doesn't look bleaker without my helm on. Though, it smells awful… Like death.” Her face scrunched as she looked to the deathclaw, the displeasure clear on her face.

“That’s all there is here,” he said somberly, following her gaze to the carcass. “Speaking of which,” he added as a stern reminder, “if you want to avoid your own, take some Rad-X. You’re going to need it if you’re going to be exposed like this.” He gave a glance toward her defunct armour, grimacing. “Getting your chest compartment open will take too long. I’ll give you some of mine, and we can attempt to pry your suit open once you’ve taken an extra dose.”

The woman didn't look too happy at his suggestion, but didn't argue with him, either. “Alright.”

Danse gave a careful glance around them before disengaging his suit. The air of the Sea immediately enveloped him like a cool shroud. Without his darkened visor, the Sea seemed much brighter. The air smelled, as Jasper had put it, of death: it was a sickeningly sweet, dusty scent akin to that of an old attic. Although the worst of the storm seemed to have passed, the electricity that clung to the humid air sent a shiver through his body, reminding him of the danger they still faced with the ghouls (and possible other deathclaws) roaming this area.

“It really is ghastly out here,” he murmured, the woman nodding in agreement as she hugged her torso. Jasper threw furtive glances around them, her tense gaze momentarily locking with his own. She gave a visible shiver and rubbed her upper arms, her body tense. Giving her what he hoped was a reassuring smile, he turned to face his armour and opened its chest compartment. He rummaged through its contents, pushing small boxes of ammo aside to get to his medkit.

“The only time that I’ve ever smelled something similar was when I found an abandoned home,” he said, mostly to break the tense silence. He grabbed the small pouch and unzipped it, frowning as he searched for the small bottle of Rad-X he knew was in there. “I was just a knight then, and—”

For the second time that night, the paladin was interrupted by a loud screech, this time a shrill, drawn-out one. Already keyed up over their encounter with the deathclaw, he gave a start and dropped the medkit, its contents spilling out as they hit the ground.

In the time it took or him to whip around, he had already prepared himself to face a ghoul, maybe even a small mammal of sorts from the way the entity screamed. What he _hadn’t_ prepared for, however, was coming face-to-face with an angry, rather vicious-looking radscorpion, its stinger up and ready to strike.

Jasper was curled up beneath the arachnid’s pincers, covering her head with her arms and whimpering. Danse gave a frown; why wasn’t she moving, or at the very least running out of the thing’s way?

For whatever reason, the creature seemed disinterested in the knight, instead turning its six-eyed stare to the paladin. It gave a hiss as it began to advance rapidly towards him, its legs clicking as it moved. Letting out a loud swear, Danse ran behind his suit of armour and rapidly jumped back in, the suit closing around him just as the scorpion struck with its stinger.

“For _Christ’s_ sake,” he yelled in frustration, kicking at the thing’s face. It chittered shrilly when his foot collided with its head, its pincers snapping blindly at the air as the creature stumbled backwards. The delay in its attack gave the paladin enough time to draw and prime his rifle, giving off a few quick shots at the thing’s head.

It was over much quicker than his battle with the deathclaw. Although a few of his lasers bounced off the creature’s carapace, one managed to hit the thing squarely in one of its eyes, reducing its face to a leaking mess. The paladin, on the other hand, emerged from the short encounter unscathed, save for a few small dents and scratches from the few hits the radscorpion managed to land.

He grunted as he kicked the creature’s limp body out of the way. _Disgusting thing,_ he thought as he watched its legs give a small twitch. Sweaty and irritated, he turned and stomped over to the knight, the beginning of an angry complaint on the tip of his tongue.

Whatever he had wanted to say, however, died in his throat as he noticed the large bloom of blood staining her ribs. His first thought was that the deathclaw had done more damage than anticipated; but as he took his first real good look at her, he finally noticed the sobs that seemed to be racking her body.

Jasper was curled in on herself, one hand pressed against the wound while the other gripped at the ashen ground. Her body jerked violently in time with a thin whine, short, ragged breaths hissing through gritted teeth. Her features were scrunched in what seemed to be excruciating pain as she looked up at him pleadingly.

“ _Danse_ ,” she gasped breathlessly. His heart dropped to his stomach in time with a muted scream, her legs kicking out with another convulsion.

Danse was frozen. Stuck. He focused on her watery, red eyes, tears spilling onto her cheeks as she looked at him with desperation. He’d only seem that look once before, _again when he was a knight_ , and felt just as helpless now as he had then. Why did this keep happening to those closest to him?

His stomach clenched in panic, his mind a war zone of emotions: fear, urgency, anger, anguish…

His mind’s eye was filled with visions of a dark cave, a sputtering ghost of a human form kneeling in front of him, pleading for mercy as he — as —

Jasper’s body heaved with wracking coughs, snapping him back to reality and into action. Pushing past the cacophony of emotions ringing in his head, he thought for a moment about what he could do. A simple stimpak would close the wound, but do absolutely nothing about the venom which was slowly making its way to her heart.

Frustration and panic tore at his chest. The longer he stood doing nothing, the less time he had to help Jasper; radscorpion venom was among some of the deadliest poisons out there, and his window of opportunity was shrinking by the second. He racked his brains, thinking of everything Scribe Haylen had ever done to help his team out: salve, ointment, painkillers…

_Painkillers._

_Med-X,_ his mind screamed at him in a moment of realization. _Find your medkit and grab some Med-X._

The paladin disengaged his suit and jumped out, looking immediately to the ground for his dropped medkit. He scoured the dust around him for any sign of the green bag, walking around the radscorpion’s carcass and following the short trail his footsteps had left in the dirt while taking down the creature.

A frantic scan of the area led him a mere few feet away, the dark green pouch jutting out from beneath the sand. His heart gave a leap as he all but dove for it, his heart quickly sinking when he realized it was empty.

Bitterly remembering that its contents had fallen out when he had been startled by the radscorpion, he swept the ground with his hands, picking up anything and everything he came into contact with. He nearly cried in relief when he finally found a long, thin syringe, the needle end of it still protected by a tight seal.

Thanking whatever deities that seemed to be blessing him, the paladin scrambled to his feet and ran, panic fuelling his frenzied rush back to Jasper.

Out of breath, Danse dropped heavily to his knees in the dirt next to the suffering knight. She wasted no time in grabbing him, her fingers gripping the armour on his thigh with much more force than he thought was possible from her at the moment. 

"P-please," she begged, another violent tremor shaking her body. His throat tightened in dismay at the sight; he felt nauseous, knowing that any wrong move would and could very well end her life.

"Shh," he soothed, his voice much stronger than he felt. "I-" a shaky breath -- "I'm here. I have some Med-X. This will help with the pain and the venom. Alright?"

Closing her eyes and taking a shuddering breath, she said, "Am I going to die?"

The words were whispered, but they were loud; a scream for mercy in the thunderous silence of the wasteland.

Swallowing against the hard lump in his throat, Danse stayed silent, taking a moment to recollect his frazzled thoughts. He scanned over her face: her skin was pale, clammy. Beads of sweat were mingling with the constant flow of tears seeping from beneath her eyelids; curls of hair were plastered to her cheeks and neck, her once tight ponytail completely undone.

"No," Danse said after a moment, his words catching in his tight throat as he fought himself on what to say. He wiped his brow with the sleeve of his uniform, exhaling as he lowered his arm. "No, you're not going to die. I'm going to roll you onto your back now. I – I need to access your uniform so I can undress you and administer the medication, okay?"

All the knight could do was nod before another tremor rippled through her body.

Taking a long, calming breath, the paladin stuck the needle into one of the pockets of his uniform, reaching down to gently release her grasp on his armour. He leaned down and gave a soft push on her shoulder, guiding her onto her back. She whimpered with the movement but did not resist, slowly stretching her body out against the shudders overcoming her muscles.

His fingers fumbled with the buckle at her throat. Once undone, he unzipped the uniform and pushed the fabric off her shoulders, taking care to move her torso as little as possible. Her white undershirt was soaked with blood, the thin garment clinging to her skin as she slowly peeled it from her chest.

He was glad the knight's eyes were closed, then, as she couldn't see the grimace he gave at the sight of the wound. The puncture point was blackened, the skin looking necrotic under the faint light of the crater. A web of black veins stained her ribs, spreading from the puncture wound like some sort of horrifying fractal.

Not wanting to waste what little time he had, he immediately dug into his pocket for the syringe; then, using his mouth, he uncapped it before swiftly injecting the serum into her bloodstream.

Tossing both his decorum and the used syringe aside, Danse gingerly scooped the knight into his arms, holding her against him as the Med-X took effect. He leaned down, resting his forehead on top of her much-too-warm head as he muttered soft words of reassurance, the knight responding with nothing but quiet, incoherent murmurs of her own.

As he sat in the sand, he wrapped his arms around her shoulders as she succumbed to the effects of the serum. His fear subsided with every small improvement, from the steadying of her breath to the gradual decline of the severity of her tremors. Eventually, the knight was completely limp, her body overwhelmingly warm as she was lulled into a state of uneasy unconsciousness.

The paladin was unsure if this was because of the serum or simply because she was exhausted, but at this point, he was merely glad to have her alive.

Slowly lifting his head from hers, he gave a tired look around him, exhaling slowly as he mustered up the energy to get up and pry Jasper's suit open to access the signal grenades.

They needed to get out of here, after all, and as the paladin laid the knight down on the dusty earth, he held on to the hope that the red of the flares would be a better sight than the blood staining his hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your patience regarding this chapter. I've never written PTSD into a character before, so it was a bit of a challenge. I *think* I succeeded, lol.
> 
> A huge thank you to chiixil84 for beta-ing this chapter. Again, you make my ideas make sense.
> 
> As always, comments are super appreciated. Thank you for reading my work! <3
> 
> Spot any mistakes? Let me know!


	18. Gwinnett Stout

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since there's no recipe for this one, let me begin by apologizing for being a couple of days late with this upload. As a thank-you for your patience, here's an extra-long chapter. ;)

_"Impressive takedown, Paladin." Dark shapes littered the ground between them: some human, some not, others strange, mangled creatures. Jasper looked serene despite the amount of bodies there seemed to be, and it gave him a weird sense of calm._

_"Thank you, Knight Cohen. I couldn't have done it without your help." He smiled at the red-haired woman standing before him as she hoisted her bloodied sledgehammer up to casually rest it on one of her shoulders, a distant look in her eyes._

_"I'm sure you could have," she said with a toss of her hair. It was loose, an uncharacteristic thing for the woman: it cascaded down her back, rippling like the waves on a lake, while her skin was pale, nearly translucent, seemingly glowing against the dark, grey expanse surrounding them._

_Giving a slow blink, Danse looked away from her and around them. The bodies at their feet seemed to shift faster, moving around with an invisible wind that seemed to be constantly blowing. The shadows moved like they were made of dust and yet seemed... Not._

_He frowned. Why were there bodies here, anyway? What had they been killing, and why? Had_ he _killed any of these creatures?_

_He couldn't remember._

_He could never remember._

_A chill danced along his spine, despite wearing his flight suit. Looking up from the dull, grey ground, he gave a glance at the horizon. That, too, was grey; no nuances, no shades, no tones... Just a stark, solid wall of grey, fading into a dull white the further he looked._

_Where were they?_

_What were they doing here?_

_Why were they here?_

_"Why? Why? Why..."_

_Although Danse hadn't spoken the question out loud, the question echoed eerily, endlessly across the empty expanse._

_With a sinking heart, he realized that it wasn't his voice, but rather Jasper's._

_"Why what?" he asked, the answer hazy as it sat just beyond his reach._

_When he didn't get a reply from the knight, he began to panic._

_Swinging on that fear, he turned towards her just as she dropped weapon, the hammer falling away from her feet as a pool of blood oozed around her boots. She was wearing nothing but a thin, white undershirt and half a uniform, the garment having been torn apart at the waist. A large bloom of blood was rapidly spreading on her left side, the centre of the stain a black point._

_Despite the blood, she looked relaxed: her arms hung limply on her sides, her hands drooped almost delicately against the orange of her uniform bottoms. Eerily, she still seemed so serene._

_"Why couldn't you protect me, Paladin?"_

_"I – I tried, Jasper," he stammered, his throat constricting the longer he stared at the stained shirt. He took a step forward, his hand extended, fingers twitching with anticipation. "I need to help you."_

_"Why?"_

_He took another step forward, staring down at her wound, unblinking as the site grew larger. "Because you're_ bleeding _, Knight."_

_"Why didn't you save me, Danse?"_

_His steps faltered, and he finally forced himself to blink. "I_ tried _," Danse insisted, his voice raising in time with his emotions. He scrunched his eyes tight as he continued, "I did what I could. I –"_

_"Why did you kill me?"_

_His blood ran cold as her voice changed into that of a man. Danse quickly opened his eyes but his gaze dragged slowly from the wound on her chest upward, nearly crying out as her pained face morphed into a long-lost, blue-eyed stare._

_However, this man's scleras were twinged a sickly yellow, his bulging skin stained a dark, splotchy green, with muscles and mutations rippling unnaturally across his once-smooth skin. "Why did you kill me?" the monster repeated in a heavier tone of voice, a deep frown creasing his forehead._

_"I had to," Danse whispered, his voice weak. "You asked me to."_

_"Why did you fail me?"_

_His throat went dry, his voice tightening as he tried to reason with this... thing. "I didn't. I_ didn't. _"_

 _"But you_ did _. You killed me, and now you've killed her, too. Look."_

_Cutler raised a deformed arm and pointed to the ground at the paladin's feet, the shadows circling viciously. Tearing his terrified gaze from his friend, Danse looked down to see Jasper curled in on herself, staring lifelessly up at him, thick strings of saliva connecting her dried, parted lips._

_It was worse than what he had seen in the Glowing Sea, to be sure – however, as if examined under a microscope, every inch of the knight's form was magnified to Danse as if to punish him for his failure._

_"She died screaming, and you didn't hear her," Cutler stated harshly, his words muddled. "Just like you didn't hear me."_

_"But I did," Danse said, his voice breaking. The paladin looked back up at him, his eyes stinging with tears. "Ben, please believe me. I did everything I could. For you, and for Jasper."_

_"It wasn't enough!"_

_Cutler's shout hit him like a sonic blast, sending him reeling back. The world around him slowly faded to a thick black, blinding the paladin._

_Danse couldn't breathe. He desperately gulped at the air, his frenzied attempts at breathing the only sound reaching his ears. His chest constricted with every attempt at a breath, his heart pounding furiously behind his ribs. He reached out, his hands clawing at the darkness in search of something, anything to hold on to._

_"It wasn't enough. It was_ never _enough."_

-oOo-

Danse awoke with a loud gasp, gulping oxygen desperately as he clung to his sweat-soaked pillow. His heart racing, disoriented and terrified, the paladin let out a shout before sitting bolt upright, his pillow falling to the floor with a muffled thud. He looked around blindly, eyes wide as he replayed the terror he'd just witnessed.

His nightmares were usually blank, pointless dreams which he did not remember. This one, however, felt so vivid, so palpably _real_ , that, for a sickening moment, Danse believed he was still in that realm, Jasper dead at his feet and Cutler reminding him that is was all his fault. The glare of her amber irises seemed to burn like radiation in the darkness around him, while his friend's voice still echoed unnervingly: _'It was never enough.'_

Another, yet choked, cry left him as he closed his eyes, squeezing them shut against the image of her dead body, limp and lifeless.

Feeling nauseous, the paladin slowly lowered himself onto the cot, lying flat against the pillow-less mattress as he forced his breathing to slow down. He was unbearably warm, and as he shifted positions in his bed, he noticed that his sheets were soaked, too.

As he laid in his own sweat, struggling to regain some sort of control over himself, he felt as helpless as he had on the trip back to the base. The paladin usually prided himself on being able to handle crisis situations, on being the one who was able to keep his cool and do what needed to be done without a second thought, but seeing Jasper in such distress, such absolute _pain_ , had thrown something in him off.

Frustrated, he lowered his arm from his eyes and slowly sat back up, leaning back on his hands as a final heavy breath left him. His heart was still beating a mile a minute and he barely had any control over the shivers coursing through his body, but he knew that if he stayed in this room much longer, he wouldn't know how to stop screaming.

Deciding he was quite done with feeling victimised, the paladin made the decision to go demand an update on the knight’s status, orders be damned. He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and stood, stretching against the stiffness in his muscles. Without turning on the lights, he got dressed, picking up whatever item of clothing was at the top of the neatly folded stacks in his drawers.

As the paladin pulled a shirt over his head, his mind wandered to the day's hectic events. It had been just a little over 24 hours since they'd been transported back to the Prydwen via vertibird, the knight in critical condition. By the time the Brotherhood had reached their location, she had regressed rapidly, the convulsions and rapid, shallow breathing coming back in full force.

With a full team working to stabilize Jasper throughout the flight, he'd hoped there would be minimal effect to the radscorpion's sting.

Upon reaching Knight-Captain Cade, however, she had become completely non-responsive.

She had been rushed into the sick bay and lain down on a bed, a set of curtains quickly being drawn around her as seemingly their entire medical team began their attempts to revive her.

In the midst of her revival, Danse had been given a rapid once-over and hastily cleared, being shoved aside so that the medical team could concentrate their efforts on Jasper.

He had attempted to sit quietly and let them do their work, but as more and more people were summoned with urgent calls from the knight-captain, Danse became agitated tenfold. The paladin was ignored as he tried to ask questions about her status, especially as the voices in the room began to meld into a harmony of worried songs speaking hymns he didn't entirely understand. A scribe eventually lost her patience with him, gently but firmly asking him to leave the sick bay. When he at first refused, the scribe ushered him out, telling him that he would get an update as soon as there was something of worthy to report before sliding the heavy metal door shut in his face.

It was a promise that had obviously gone unfulfilled.

Angrily shoving his bare feet in his boots, the paladin stomped towards his door, not bothering to lace them up before wrenching it open and stepping out into the hallway. He was sure he looked like Hell, a hypothesis that was confirmed when a passing scribe gave him a wide-eyed look of worry. Ignoring the young woman, he briskly made his way to the now quiet sick bay, unaware and uncaring of the hour he visited in.

He was greeted by Knight-Captain Cade's silhouette sitting in his corner office, bent over some paperwork he was filling out. No lights were on in the entirety of the medical hall save for a lamp on Cade's desk, as well as the single bulb illuminated over what could only be Jasper's bed. The room smelled of blood and disinfectant, a steady but quiet beeping noise alerting the paladin to the presence of a heart monitor.

Seeing the knight-captain brought back many anxieties, but also a calm in knowing it was _him_ rather than Quinlan or a scribe taking care of Jasper. Taking a breath to calm his frayed nerves, Danse stepped lightly into the dim medical ward, gently knocking on the steel wall just inside the sick bay to gather the officer's attention. Seemingly unbothered, Cade merely grunted in response, setting down his pen and turning his chair to face the paladin.

"Yes?" the officer said sternly, frowning against the darkness. "Who is it?"

"Paladin Danse," he answered, his voice soft but curt.

"Ah." Cade sighed, nodding as he narrowed his eyes on the silhouette of the paladin. "I suppose this visit isn't because you're suddenly feeling the side effects of radiation exposure?"

"Negative, officer."

Another soft sigh. "Come in, then, and tell me what's wrong, soldier."

Danse walked to the medical officer and sat in one of the chairs opposite the man, hesitating only a moment before speaking. "This isn't about me," he said, balling his fists nervously in his lap.

"I figured," the knight-captain hummed.

He shifted in his seat under Cade's gaze. "I was never given an update on Knight Cohen's status, even though I was told I'd be alerted of any changes to her condition."

"Well," Cade began reluctantly, leaning back in his chair. His frown seemed to cut deep in the soft light, his eyes sharp as he looked the paladin in the eyes. "I'm not going to sugar coat this bomb: she's still in pretty bad shape. Her heart rate is all over the place, and there are still traces of the venom in her blood. We've given her blood transfusions to replace the amount she lost, and to hopefully flush her system of some of the venom. We are routinely administering both stimpaks and Med-X to ease the pain and hopefully quicken the healing process."

Danse nodded, swallowing against the tightening of his throat. He couldn't find the words to say, but tried anyway, asking, "So, how long will it be before she's going to be okay?"

The knight-captain shook his head as he gave the paladin a sad frown, his lips pressed into a thin line. "This is something well beyond a simple or even severe wound garnered on the battle field. She's suffering, and she will for a while. Radscorpion venom is no treat, Paladin, and with how close to her major organs the stinger came she's luckier than many." He didn't have to finish the statement: the nightmare flashed before his eyes once more, and he was brought back to the Glowing Sea in full force.

A sound resembling a cross between a whine and a groan left the paladin as he lowered his head, burying his face in his hands as he leaned his elbows on his knees, attempting to get rid of the images. He felt Cade's hand rest on his shoulder, squeezing gently in a gesture of sympathy.

The paladin rubbed his face before sitting back up, running a hand through his hair. He sighed and leaned back into his seat, forcing himself to ask, "What if she doesn't make it?"

"If it weren't for that initial dose of Med-X," Cade said softly, "she most definitely would not be here." The paladin stayed still as the medical officer glanced towards the drawn curtains, saying gently, "You saved her life, Danse. Your quick thinking was the start of what you could under the circumstances. She's under my care now, and I promise you that we'll get her back on her feet as soon as possible."

A frown formed on his face, but it held a different meaning than the previous ones. "Speaking of which," Cade began, "have you gotten any rest since you spoke with Maxson?"

"Yes," Danse answered quickly. The officer quirked a brow, skepticism clear on his lined face. "I did," the paladin insisted. "I just got woken by _–_ " a shudder; " _–_ a nightmare."

"One of your famous nightmares again?" When the paladin didn't answer, Cade tave a long, exasperated sigh before turning his gaze sharp. "You really need to let me treat you for those. They're impeding on your everyday life."

"Don't start this again," Danse said coldly, glaring at his brother-in-arms. "I came here for an update, not a lecture."

"Danse _–_ "

" _Enough_."

He sighed, ignoring the affronted look the medical officer shot towards him. "I'm going to go eat something. Update me when she wakes up. That's an order," he added sternly, emphasizing his command with a pointed look.

With that, the paladin rose from his seat and, without further discussion, left the sick bay, leaving an annoyed Cade to his paperwork.

-oOo-

Danse slammed his power armour's helm down with a loud swear, leaving a sizeable dent in the table's surface.

A startled Ingram peered around the suit she was working on, a brow raised as she asked, "Everything alright, Paladin? Or are you experimenting with a new dictionary?"

"My vernacular is _fine_ ," he hissed, swiping his forehead to remove some sweat but instead placing a sizeable grease-streak on his skin instead. "But when did initiates become so _stupid_?" he vented loudly, turning to face the engineer. "They care about absolutely _nothing,_ their form is atrocious, and their complete and utter disregard for authority is _appalling."_ He sighed roughly, taking a deep breath in an attempt to calm his temper. "I've had it, and it's only been three goddamn days."

The proctor snorted, her brows twitching up. She had a multitude of stories poised on the edge of her tongue, he knew, but thankfully she passed on the opportunity this time.

"What'd you expect, Danse," she said instead, shrugging. "They're _wastelanders_ ; probably never even heard of the Brotherhood before we showed up, what with the raider activity here. Plus, power armour's pretty damn alluring to someone who's constantly had to fear for their life."

"Don't defend their shit attitude," he said, giving her a dark look. "Power armour shouldn't be an excuse to act like uncivilized, snarky children."

The older woman laughed then, going back to her work with a shake of her head.

Sweaty, angry and completely discouraged, the paladin stepped into the docking station and exited his armour. He all but tore off his hood, throwing the damp head gear next to his helm. He gave the thing a derisive glare before attempting to fluff his sweat-dampened hair to no avail.

"I'm going to go see Knight Cohen," he said grumpily. Ingram nodded absent-mindedly as she frowned at her project.

"Wish her the best for me," she mumbled before crouching down, giving a narrow-eyed glare at the thing's leg. Nodding, Danse turned and exited the maintenance bay, tugging off his leather gloves and stuffing them in his pockets. 

"One day at a time," she called to him before he disappeared from earshot.

He gave her a nonchalant wave, knowing he was already out of her line of sight.

By the time he had made the short walk to the sick bay, the paladin had managed to fix his hair and make himself look somewhat presentable, if he discounted the sweat- and grease-stained uniform. He stepped into the medical ward, waving quickly at Knight-Captain Cade.

"I got your message," he said as a form of greeting, the medical officer nodding. "She's doing better then?"

"Her fever finally broke last night, and she managed to stay awake for a few hours this morning, even if she was rather hazy throughout the exchange," the man confirmed, scratching at the scruff on his jaw. "She's asleep now, but you're welcome to check on her if you like."

With a quick, tired smile, Danse stepped further into the sick bay and began to slowly pull back the curtain surrounding the knight, stopping only to turn back to the medical officer and say, "Thank you, Captain."

Already delving into his next stack of paperwork, the knight-captain offered Danse only a simple hum of recognition.

Danse turned back to the curtain and pulled it open enough to allow him access to her little area. Jasper was laying on her right side, her injured ribs exposed to the cool air of the sick bay; she was unclothed save for a white wife-beater, the thick bulk of a bandage creating a rise beneath her clothes. A thin blanket was bunched at her waist, one fist balled in the grey coverlet while the other hand cradled her head.

Tubes attached to an IV drip were embedded into the arm beneath her head, held in place by medical tape. _'RADAWAY'_ was printed in large, black letters across the IV bag's label, its contents slowly trickling into the drip chamber while blood flowed from another, the line a stark red against the white of the sheets... and her skin.

The knight was still pale. She looked almost green under the harsh artificial light of the ward. Her breathing was shallow but steady; even in her sleep Jasper seemed to be compensating for the pain that came with every breath, breathing through slightly parted lips.

Danse felt a wave of guilt at the sight of her. Averting his eyes, he took a moment to collect his thoughts, hastily shoving the memory of his nightmare in the back of his mind.

The paladin took a slow, deep breath and stepped to the knight's bedside, pulling the curtain shut behind him as he went. He tugged the visitor's chair away from the wall and placed it next to Jasper's bed, making sure not to disturb the sleeping knight as he sat down.

For a moment, all was quiet save for the constant beeping of the monitor attached to Jasper's chest.  The big rectangular box was mounted to a steel support beam behind the gurney, its bright light blinked in time with the beeps, indicating a rapid but steady heart rate. He knew it was a rudimentary thing salvaged from one of Boston's many hospitals, but it did the job it needed to do.

His lips pressed into a thin line, Danse looked away from the machine, turning his attention back to Jasper. All things considered, she looked rather peaceful as she slept, a far cry from the last time he'd been around her. He groaned as he slumped into his seat, stretching his legs out in front of him and folding his hands in his lap.

Turning his gaze up to the ceiling, the paladin sighed before muttering, "You probably don't want to hear this, but I've had a terrible day." He let out a soft, very quiet snort before closing his eyes and leaning his head back until it rested on the back of the chair.

"In fact, you probably can't hear me at all," he continued, barely above a whisper. He could hear the sadness in his voice, but he refused to let himself feel any of it. "I thought you'd like to know, though, that the initiates I've been tasked with training are all absolute _assholes_. The proctors gave me the toughest bunch of idiots this side of the country's ever seen, and you're not even there to witness it." Another snort as he shifted in his seat slightly, squaring his shoulders a bit. "You would have had a laugh at them and I'd have had to reprimand you for it, but I think you'd know I'd be laughing, too, if I weren't in charge of teaching them proper discipline and protocol."

Danse could feel the exertion of the day beginning to win him over. "It's exhausting," he said through a yawn, pressing the back of his hand to his mouth. He let his arm drop back down, his hand dropping onto his thigh while the other rested on his seat's armrest. "I wish you could be there. Maybe then they'd see what actual _effort_ in their training brings to a person." A sigh. "I also wish that I could ask you how you're doing. Perhaps I could relax, then, knowing how you were despite... all of this."

For what seemed like hours, Danse sat in silence, letting his eyes slide shut as he imagined all of the things he wanted to express to her – an _awake_ Jasper. The longer he sat, the further he slipped into his exhaustion, allowing it to slowly overtake him.

He was pleasantly warm for such a cold atmosphere, and the usually stiff chair was oddly comfortable on his sore muscles. He let his mind wander, thinking first about ways to get his initiates in line, then to something vague about paperwork. Maybe he'd work on his rifle a bit more once he had the chance...

It was only when Cade peeked from behind the curtain of Jasper's makeshift room that the paladin realized that he was actually falling asleep, his eyes snapping open when the knight-captain's voice floated to him through the haze of exhaustion.

Turning to the medical officer, the paladin's eyes were wide and bleary. It took everything the paladin had to not reach up and wipe the weepiness away.

"You alright?" the medical officer asked when presented with Danse's startled look, pausing in his previous line of conversation. The paladin gave a quick wave of his hand, clearing his throat as he searched for something to say, blinking hard. Before he could find the words, however, Cade wore a smirk and crossed his arms as he continued, his brow raised coyly, "You got quiet, and I figured I'd check on you. Seems I had nothing to worry about?"

Danse gave in, finally rubbing his eyes while another yawn escaped his mouth. "I'm fine," he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep. He gave his head a shake in an attempt to wake himself up before pushing up from his seat, ignoring the look the knight-captain gave him and opting instead to look at Jasper's sleeping form. "Unruly initiates will do that to a man."

"Ah." He didn't sound convinced. "Well," Cade started, shifting his footing slightly, "get to bed before you pass out in the hallway. We don't need another good soldier in here with an injury."

"Will do."

With the finality of his statement, the air around them grew thick, Cade's gaze boring into his back as if the medical officer wished to say something more, but the moment passed quickly, leading the other man to stepping back out into the medbay's main room. It gave Danse a moment of reprieve to give himself one more moment with Jasper.

So many things swarmed his mind, prayers and blessings and apologies of all sorts thrashing about, but none found themselves on his tongue.

"Goodnight, Jasper," were the only words he could muster, his emotions and exhaustion getting the better of him.

Standing up, Danse thought he heard Cade's voice from beyond the curtain whispering, "I hope you pull through, soldier. Things wouldn't be the same without you."

But when he looked into the main medical facility, he found no one.

Maybe he was hearing things, he decided. Sleep would help keep him focused.

-oOo-

"So the grid has been set up then?"

Maxson exasperatedly ran a hand through his hair at the paladin's question, nodding. "Yes, Paladin," the younger man affirmed. "We've got one scribe and two knights set up at every contact point. One for each grid mark."

The Elder swept his hand across the map on the table in front of them, stopping to splay his hand across the Glowing Sea. Danse gave the scribble- and note-covered map one last glance before closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.

"I understand the urgency of the situation, Danse, but it will take time for every single point of contact to be functional," Arthur continued, pushing away from the table. "Setting up nearly fifty radio points is a monumental task. Frankly, I'm surprised we've even had the equipment to achieve the coverage we have."

"You don't sound enthusiastic about this," Danse said, frowning at his Elder.

"I am enthusiastic about the potential infiltration of the Institute, but definitely not about the amount of resources this is costing us. _However_ ," he added sternly, interrupting Danse's angry protest, "I will not hesitate to pour as much as I can into this. This is the reason we came to this God forsaken territory, and I'm here to accomplish my mission no matter what stands in my way."

Danse sighed, rubbing his scruff lightly. "Alright."

Maxson echoed his sigh, giving the paladin an apologetic look. "Look, Gabe," he said softly. Danse jerked his head as he looked up at the Elder, surprised at hearing his first name. "I am very much aware of the toll this has taken on you, both physically and emotionally. I don't want to see Knight Cohen's sacrifice go to waste, either, and I promise to see this through to the end."

His eyes narrowed as he listened to Maxson's words. "You speak as if she were dead," the paladin said, his voice low. He looked back down at the map, his eyes lingering on the large, red area outlined in the bottom left corner.

He heard the Elder shift his footing as if he wanted to approach, but instead Maxson kept his distance. "Have you gone to see her, yet?" the younger man opted for instead, his words softer than what many would deem Elder-worthy. If Danse were to look up, he'd know Arthur would be here rather than the Brotherhood's leader.

But he didn't look up. Not yet, anyway.

"I have, every day," the paladin murmured, the edge in his voice harsher than what he'd have liked.

Arthur shifted again, clearing his throat slightly as the silence stretched on. "I've read the report, but, how is she?"

"Better," the paladin began, squashing his irritation quickly, "but still in a lot of pain." Danse backed away from the table, tearing his eyes from the map to look at anything other than his leader. "She can't move very well, but Cade says there are no more traces of the venom in her bloodstream. All that's left now is to let the wound heal and she'll be cleared for duty."

"Considering the nature of her injury, it's quite impressive that she's made such progress in a week," Arthur said, scratching at the beard on his chin. The paladin stole a glance at the younger man, noticing his expression change from concern, to mildly impressed, then to thoughtfulness. Danse remained silent, however.

"Are you going to see her now?" the Elder asked, his voice still soft as he met the paladin's eyes.

"Only if we're done here," he replied, giving Arthur a tired smile. The Elder nodded, jerking his chin towards his quarters' door.

"Go see her, then, Danse. I'll see you at mess." Back to their roles they went.

Giving Maxson a quick salute, the paladin replied, "Affirmative. Ad Victoriam, Elder."

A short walk later, Danse meandered into the sick bay, the staff barely acknowledging his arrival with anything more than a nod. He'd become such a regular that the few scribes that worked under the knight-captain had begun questioning him when he did not appear for what they affectionately called his 'scheduled visits'.

With a small wave specifically at the knight-captain, Danse made his way to Jasper's bed only to find that the curtain had been drawn.

_Unusual._

Danse gave the curtain a dubious look before reaching out to grab it.

" _Ow_ ," came a voice from the other side, halting him in his tracks.

The paladin stood ram-rod straight as another voice responded with a 'tsk' sound, followed by a sigh, "I know it hurts, Knight, but bear with me. We're almost done."

_Sam?_

The paladin cleared his throat, cutting Jasper's next complaint short. He heard the scribe set down a metal instrument of sorts before taking a few brisk steps and poking her head out from behind the curtain.

"Paladin Danse," she greeted, her eyebrows almost as high as her hairline. Danse blinked, feeling as surprised as she sounded. "What are you doing here?"

"I could ask the same of you," the paladin said with a light smile. "Can I come in?"

"Uhm, well," she began, her eyes apologetic as her smile faded. He saw her shift uncomfortably, her grip on the curtain tightening momentarily. "She's not exactly in a, uhm, state to be seen, sir. Her wound is still exposed, and I don't think that–"

"What she's trying to say is that I'm naked," Jasper said loudly from behind the scribe. Haylen rolled her eyes, exhaling loudly as her cheeks reddened. Danse raised his brows, trying – and failing – to suppress an amused grin.

"Naked," he repeated as he heard the knight give a laugh, punctuated by a gasp of pain and a low curse.

"You deserved that," Sam said, throwing a smirk over her shoulder. Turning her attention back to the paladin, she nodded, pressing her lips into a thin smile. "Yes, she's _naked_. Give me a moment, okay?"

With a final, exasperated sigh, Haylen disappeared and resumed her work. The paladin turned away from the curtain and, bracing himself for a bit of a wait, busied himself with readjusting his armour.

Before his meeting with Maxson, he had been tasked with leading a morning excursion in the nearby RobCo Sales and Service Center. Although they had been able to retrieve a few pieces of pre-war tech, their trip was not without its share of raider ambushes and surprise mirelurk attacks. He had been summoned almost immediately upon his return to join Maxson in his quarters, and hadn't really had the time to check his bearings since his return.

He hoped he wasn't too unpresentable.

Danse was in the middle of tying the last buckle on his chest piece when Haylen stepped out from behind the curtain, carrying a sealed bag full of soiled bandages and contaminated equipment.

"All yours," she said, jerking her head towards the curtain.

"Thank you," Danse replied, giving her a smile. He stopped as he walked by her, frowning. "Sam, when did you come aboard the Prydwen?"

The scribe stopped in her tracks, turning to face him as she readjusted her grip on the bag. "Knight-Captain Cade offered to take me on and train me as a medical officer," she said, pride clear in her voice. "He heard about everything I'd done for our team and he thought that I had more to offer than just being a field scribe."

"That's outstanding news," Danse said. He raised his brows, impressed. "I'm proud of you. You deserve it."

"Ah, thank you, Paladin," Haylen said, beaming. "Knight Rhys has been promoted to Knight-Captain, so he's been busy, too.”

He nearly choked on his own words as he repeated, “Knight- _Captain_?”

“Yep. He’s actually been put in charge of a small group of knights back in Cambridge. He’s a bit of a hard-ass, but his team gets results, so no one says much about it.”

“That’s not surprising,” Danse said, giving her a slight shrug. “He was always a good soldier, save for his smart mouth.”

“Definitely,” she said through a soft laugh. The young woman gave a look around her and sighed, rocking once on the heels of her feet before looking back up at him apologetically. “Well, as much as I’d enjoy catching up, I have to go finish up my current task.” She held up the waste bag for emphasis, the paladin nodding understandingly. "I'll be back soon. Take care of her while I'm gone."

With a small wave and a smile, the scribe made her way to the back of the sick bay and out of sight, leaving Danse alone once more. He reached for the curtain, gripping the fabric before stopping himself.

"Are you sure it's okay for me to come in?" he asked, unsure; Pre-War society had a different set of standards when it came to physical privacy than what the wasteland offered.

"One hundred percent, Paladin," Jasper answered, a hint of a laugh in her voice. Reassured, Danse pulled the curtain open just enough to let himself through to the other side.

He was greeted by Jasper's warm but tired smile. Her hair was loose, but had been carefully brushed; her red waves had grown past her shoulders, a sight longer than they had been since they'd first met, with her bangs falling well past her eyes now. As tired as she looked, the paladin couldn't help but admire how prettily the hair seemed to frame her face.

He felt his cheeks warm. _That's dangerous territory, Danse_ , he told himself, quickly pushing the thought to the back of his mind. _Pretty and professional don't go together too well._ Desperate to avoid questions regarding his reddening cheeks, the paladin busied himself with pulling the chair even closer to her bedside.

He was glad to see that the knight was sitting up rather than lying down as she usually was; she was still pale, but was much more energetic today than she had been the day before. She watched him silently as he settled into his seat, again smiling when he looked back up.

"So," she began lightly, leaning back into the pillow she was propped against. "How have those initiates been treating you?"

"Terribly," he said, deadpan. "Three of the eight I had under my charge quit on me when they saw that I wasn't playing games anymore, and the rest are so sore from their training that they can barely move."

"Well that's disappointing." Jasper frowned, her smile slowly replaced by an unimpressed scowl. She then shrugged, pursing her lips thoughtfully before saying, "I guess your regimen is working, then. If they couldn't make it through the most basic of training, then they weren't meant to be here."

"That's how I'm taking it, too. _Ad Victoriam_ has a whole new meaning when you're training incompetent morons."

"You _really_ must be frustrated if you’re using our battle cry in vain," the knight said, a hint of a smirk on her lips. She gave a laugh when he threw her a scowl, again stopped short by a gasp of pain. Danse frowned lightly as she pressed a hand to her ribs, a grimace of pain twisting her features.

"Do you need anything for that?" he asked, concerned.

"I can deal," she said curtly, closing her eyes as she breathed through her pain. She gave another, much lighter chuckle then, saying as she leaned her head back, "The last time I was anywhere near this level of pain, I was in labour with Shaun."

Danse fell uncomfortably silent at her words. As usual, the mention of Jasper's past and the heaviness that came with it made him uneasy, and although he wanted to say something, _anything_ to get over it, he could never find the words.

Unsure of what to do or say, he looked away from the knight, fidgeting instead with the hem of his gloves. He heard Jasper shift in her bed, giving a soft grunt of pain before settling. He turned back to her, worry creasing his forehead.

"My husband was in the same spot you are, now that I think about it," she said, her voice soft. "He was sitting right where you are, nervous about every single sound, every little movement I made." She sniffed a short laugh. "Kind of suits you."

The paladin gave her an awkward smile, saying quietly, "I'm not sure if I should accept that compliment, Knight."

“Why not? He was a good man, Paladin.” Jasper sighed, her smile fading into a sad frown. She looked away, instead turning her amber gaze down to her hands as she toyed with the blanket. “Just because we were more friends than lovers in the end doesn’t mean he was any less of a good person.”

“… Friends?” The paladin tilted his head, confused. “What do you mean? I thought you loved him.”

“I did,” she said, nodding sombrely. “But as time went on, the, uhm," she paused, her hands gesturing vaguely, "long deployments and the extremely demanding nature of my career took its toll on us. We had Shaun because it was part of being married.” She gave a soft sigh, glancing up from her hands. “He was a very traditional man, and we just… Followed the motions, did what was expected of us as a married couple, back then. He went to war, I did the chores.”

“Wait.” Danse help up a hand as straightened himself up and leaned forward, frowning. “I don’t understand. Do you regret having your son? Was that a normal occurrence in 2077?”

“My _God_ no,” she said, horrified. She stopped fidgeting with the blanket and sat up, her eyes wide beneath an affronted frown. “No, I do _not_ regret having Shaun. I’m just saying that it was an _expectation_ , and…” Her voice trailed off, her expression softening into one of sadness. “We wanted Shaun,” she resumed after a moment. The knight resumed toying with the blanket in her hands, tangling her fingers in the fabric. She looked up at him after a moment, her eyes dim, searching for… What?

Danse had no immediate answer to give her.

“ _I_ wanted Shaun. It was just… I would have preferred it if we had had him a little earlier in our relationship, when we were truly in love. You know?”

No, he did _not_ know. He did not know how it felt to lose a lover as brutally as she had. He did not know what it was like to have a child and lose them, too. He had no idea what it was to have a family, to have a solid life plan, much less having it all taken away in the blink of an eye over the immeasurable greed of global superpowers.

Frowning at himself, he thought for a moment on how to answer her. Images of Cutler danced through his mind, accompanied by memories of the intense sadness and anger he had once felt regarding his friend’s tragic end.

He suppressed a sigh. He wasn’t sure he could give her the answer she needed to hear, but what he _could_ give her was honesty.

“Well,” he began, readjusting himself in his chair. “I haven’t lived what you’ve been through, and I certainly don’t know what it’s like to have my family ripped apart, but what I _do_ know is what it feels like to lose somebody that’s very close to you.” Her eyes grew attentive, her mouth downturned. She readjusted slightly, turning her body to face him.

“I don’t think I can give you the answers you need,” he continued after a moment, his voice at a near mutter. He broke the eye contact he’d forced himself to maintain, focusing instead on his hands. “But what I can give you is a proper shoulder to lean on, and I hope that it can help you get where you need to be to feel better.”

When Jasper remained silent, Danse looked up, afraid he’d said something wrong. What he found instead were kind eyes, the corners of her lips pushed up in a small smile.

“You don’t say that often to people, do you,” she said softly.

Danse gave a quiet laugh. “No, I don’t.”

The knight nibbled on her lower lip as she held his gaze, thoughtfulness once again crossing her soft features. Danse felt his cheeks warm, his awkwardness overpowering his carefully maintained composure. Why could he never have this kind of conversation without faltering? Letting himself sigh this time, he looked away from the knight as she gave a quiet sigh herself.

Silence settled over them as they sat, one contemplating his words while the other attempted to settle comfortably in her bed.

“I need to pee,” she eventually said, breaking the silence. The paladin looked up from staring at his feet and gave a light frown.

“Can you go by yourself?” he asked, glancing down at her ribs.

“No,” she said defeatedly after a moment. "And I don't know when the scribes will be back to help me, and Knight-Captain Cade looked so busy..." She frowned down at her injury before making a sound of frustration and looking back up at him, an apologetic expression on her face. “I… I _loathe_ the need to ask, but can you give me a hand getting to the bathroom? I wouldn’t be asking if I wasn’t desperate. I’m sorry.”

“Absolutely.” Danse stood and made his way to her bed, extending his hand. “Don’t apologize. I meant what I said.”

“Bet you didn’t mean it quite this literally, though,” she said with a sheepish smile. Jasper looked down at his hand and hesitated for a moment before reaching out and taking it.

Slowly, carefully, she moved to swing her legs off the bed, sucking in a sharp breath when her torso twisted. Her grip tightened on his hand as she moved, stopping almost immediately.

“I can’t,” she said tightly, squeezing her eyes shut against the pain. She recoiled back onto the mattress. “I can’t move on my own.”

“Here.” Danse let go of her hand, leaned in and lifted her arm over his shoulders, slipping his own around her torso, gently pulling her against him.

The paladin supported her weight as she gave a second attempt at climbing off her bed, leaning heavily on him as she finally managed to bring her legs over the edge. Despite how much stronger Jasper had gotten over the past few months, she felt fragile as he helped guide her off the gurney.

Jasper rested her forehead against his chest with a soft whimper. She stayed still, their deep, controlled breaths the only sound in the sick bay as he stood next to her, doing his best not to stare down at her face. The little bit that Danse could see through her hair was scrunched up, her brows pinched together in a pained scowl.

“Let me know when you’re ready to start walking,” he said quietly, tightening his grip on her. She took a few more breaths before nodding against him and sliding down onto her feet.

Jasper groaned as she took her first step, faltering almost immediately. He caught her effortlessly, the knight’s fingers digging into his arms as she held on to him.

As a man of duty and decorum, he knew he shouldn’t be thinking of anything but helping Jasper get to where she needed to be.

As a higher-ranking officer, _her_ superior officer, he shouldn’t be enjoying the feeling of having her pressed against him in such an awkward, desperate moment.

As a man of integrity, he shouldn’t be feeling so many… _feelings_ towards the knight while she was so vulnerable.

But he was.

God, he _was_.

In the midst of _many_ unwholesome thoughts, blurry memories of the Glowing Sea erupted in his mind, bringing with them the fear he had felt when she had gone limp in his arms. How he had panicked when her temperature had spiked, how he had squeezed her to him when her breathing had gone from shallow and careful to erratic and barely audible. It took everything the man had not to stop and just hold her right then and there, to tell her he had never been so afraid to lose someone in a very long time.

To tell her he —

“ _Ow_ ,” the knight hissed, interrupting his spiralling thoughts. A furious rush of gratitude hit him as she gave a growl, stopping to glare down at her injury. “This is ridiculous,” she mumbled, taking another deep breath before staring determinedly, albeit tiredly, at the sick bay’s bathroom door. “Let’s go before I pee myself.”

The next few moments all seemed to blur together as Danse helped Jasper walk the rest of the way to the facilities, the woman making terrible jokes about her condition along the way. When they got to the door, she mentioned something about hoping for glowing urine, giving a hearty but choppy bark of laughter at the horrified look Danse threw her way.

“Smile, Danse,” she said, her hand on the door handle. “Don’t let things _bug_ you so much.” Her playful smile was the last thing he saw before he let her go and she slipped inside, telling him she would be but a minute, barring any complications of course.

Shaking his head at the now closed door, he leaned against the wall and waited. She had such a cavalier outlook sometimes, yet it was whenever that particular attitude peaked through the usual quiet of her demeanour that Danse really appreciated her presence in his life.

Amongst other things – but Jasper, overall, held such importance to him that he didn't know what he would do without her.

When Jasper opened the door a short while later, looking pained and frustrated, the paladin felt a pang of guilt that he managed to keep at bay. The self-inflicted remorse evaporated, however, when she reached out to him almost desperately, grabbing the arm he extended.

“It hurts,” she whispered, squeezing his bicep with a surprising amount of force. A stray tear fell from one of her eyes as she looked up at him, her amber irises dull and tired. “I didn’t think it would be this bad, but it _hurts_.”

His heart sank to his stomach at the ragged breath she drew as she once more leaned against him, clinging to his arm with a vice grip.

Danse closed his eyes and collected his thoughts before gently prying her off. He placed her arm over his shoulders and slipped his own around her torso, this time holding her a little tighter against his side as they reassumed their earlier position. He was thankful for her height: had she been a little shorter, this would not have worked so well. They would have had to resort to other methods, such as a wheelchair, or…

Ignoring the rather enticing thought of simply scooping her into his arms and carrying her to her bed – because that would be _highly_ unprofessional, he scolded himself – he busied himself with simply guiding her, giving her a bit of extra support when she clambered back into bed with a soft groan.

“Thank you,” she mumbled as he slowly pulled away, the woman leaning into her pillow. Her arm slid off his shoulders, her gentle hand lingering for what felt like a little _too_ long on his gloved one.

Danse looked up at her, his eyes locking onto hers. For the first time in a long while, Danse’s heart skipped a beat and, as he stood there, stupidly staring into her eyes, he felt something shift.

 _Damn it_ , he thought, feeling his pulse race. _Say something!_

“Uhm,” he managed quietly, pulling himself away awkwardly. Jasper stared down at where his hand used to be before looking up at him, her lips slightly parted. _You tactless idiot,_ his mind screamed at him, his cheeks warming.

He felt less stupid, however, when he noticed the rosy tint slowly creeping up the knight’s cheeks, too.

“I should go,” he blurted out, clearing his throat and adopting a rigid stance. “I--I have paperwork to take care of, and, uhm, repairs on my armour that I must attend to.”

_Lame! Lame, lame, lame._

Jasper simply nodded, looking down and away. She looked mildly startled, at what he did not know, but one thing was for sure: the longer he stood there, the more awkward this would become. Desperate to avoid any more compromising situations, the paladin took a step back.

“I hope you rest well, Knight,” he said, thankful that his tone did not betray the absolute war zone of emotions in his mind. “You need it.”

“Thank you,” she mumbled again, barely affording him a glance. She still looked perturbed as she laid down, blinking once at the ceiling before turning to face the other way. “I need rest. Have a good evening, Paladin.”

Danse opened his mouth as if to say something, but he chose instead to remain silent. He couldn’t think of anything to say that would salvage the situation crumbling before him. Defeated, he made his way to the other side of the curtain, slowly sliding it shut behind him.

He paused and ran a hand down his face. _What have you gotten yourself into?_

As he left the sick bay, Danse found that he couldn’t really answer the question.

The more he thought about it, the more lost he felt. As he made his way to the mess hall, he decided to forget about it for now. If it was important, he’d figure it out eventually, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feelings.
> 
> AND NAME DROPS.
> 
> :)
> 
> \--
> 
> A huge thank you to chiixil84 for her beta-ing, as well as Daniel for his effort near the end. I couldn't have done it without you guys' help.
> 
> As usual, comments are super appreciated! If you spot any mistakes, let me now! :)


	19. AN APOLOGY

To my readers:

I am so sorry.

I have had a really shitty past three months. The holidays sucked, and my 5 1/2 year relationship ended on a sour note. I've been having a really rough emotional time, and I figured it was time to let you guys in on what was going on.

I haven't forgotten you. I am still writing. It's just taking me some time to get through this.

This will eventually be replaced by the actual chapter. 

Once again, I am SO sorry.

I hope you've all had a better time with 2018 than I have. I love you all, and I appreciate each and every single one of you. 

Lots of love,

Krystal, A.K.A DangerMom xoxox


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